Cordelia sighed and shook her head.

“We know the property is in the process of being sold,” Sister Maeve explained, “but it’s at least a year before we have to get out. We’ve freshly spackled and painted the whole second floor where the kids stay when they’re there, so there isn’t a peeling chip anywhere. Apparently it’s still a problem though, because they say that lead paint was used years ago. Sister Superior asked Pablo if he’d taken a look at some of the places where these kids live and compared the conditions there to those at Home Base. He said he doesn’t make the rules. He said there have to be two exits, and they can’t include the fire escape.”

“The staircase is wide enough for five kids to come down together, but they don’t count that. Maeve, we could go on and on,” Sister Cordelia interrupted. “The bottom line is that in under four weeks we have to close the doors on the Home Base program, and if any of those kids show up, we have no choice but to send them home to an empty apartment with no security and no supervision.”

Monsignor Ferris reached for his empty cup as Kate held up the teapot. “Thank you, yes, Kate. And I think it’s time to share our good news with the others.”

Kate looked shy. “Why don’t you, please, Monsignor?”

“Gladly. Bessie, God rest her, realized the end was near, and the day after Thanksgiving she asked me to stop in.”

Let this news be what I think it is, Alvirah prayed silently.

The quiet composure that was a habitual expression on Monsignor Ferris’s kindly face was brightened by the obviously happy tidings he was about to impart. He smoothed his silver hair, which still was somewhat disheveled from the wind at the graveside service, then he smiled. “Bessie told me that, of course, in her will she left this house to her sister, as well as an income that would ensure Kate’s comfort, but Kate had indicated to her that she would like to turn the house over to Sister Cordelia for the Home Base program.”