my mother called. “What, mom?” “You received something in the mail. It’s from Reid.” I jumped up from my bed and flung open my bedroom door. I stood, rather impatiently, with my hand held out in front of me. “What is it?” “A post card, from France.” “Give it here.” She handed it over. “Thanks,” I said, dismissing my mother none too gracefully. I closed the door to my room once the postcard was in hand. I walked over to the calendar, and circled the date. A tear rolled down my cheek. I swiped the tear with my finger, sat down on the side of my bed, took in a deep breath, and looked at the treasure I held in my hand. It should have been gold for how I held it. A picture postcard of the Cathedral of Notre-Dame. I turned it over to see Reid’s handwriting. With reverence I traced my fingertips over the indentations of the dark black ink… Baby bird, I took a tour of this place and thought of you.
What do You think about The Good Sister: Part One?
