Page 37 of The Clifftop Cottage

Biting her lip, she fired off a quick text:

Hi sis, how are you? Are you about?

She hesitated for a moment, watching the screen, waiting for a reply. Nothing. Delivered, but no response.

Leah sighed, tossing her phone onto the passenger seat.

She hated feeling like this – like she was pushing, like she was the only one trying. Erica had enough on her plate, she knew that. And yet, her sister’s decision to move into the cottage, so far removed from everything, had stung more than she cared to admit.

Had she been acting like an overbearing mother figure? She tried not to be, tried to hold back the part of herself that always wanted to take control, to keep everyone safe. But with Erica, it was difficult.

She pulled down the rearview mirror and caught sight of herself, smudged mascara trailing down her cheek. She huffed out a laugh, shaking her head. This was why she didn’t bother with make-up. After a long shift she always forgot about it, and this was the result. She grabbed a tissue, wiping it away until her skin was clean again.

One last glance at her phone.

Still nothing.

Shoving the car into gear, she turned up the radio and pulled out of the carpark. Hopefully, she could beat the traffic.

Somehow, she made it to school before the bell even rang. Leah leaned back in her seat, watching as parents crossed the street, ready to gather their children into warm coats and safe cars.

She had a few minutes yet.

Leah glanced at her phone. Still nothing from Erica.

A flicker of irritation passed through her, but she forced herself to breathe through it. She summoned the image of the newborn from earlier and the way his mother had rocked him gently, whispering that lullaby. It worked, as it always did. It eased her frustration. And yet …

Yet, it triggered something else.

Without thinking, she reached into the glove compartment, her fingers brushing against the smooth paper. She pulled out the letter.

A clean white envelope, her name scrawled across the front in handwriting she thought she’d never see again. The flap was loose now, worn from the countless times she had opened it, read it, folded it carefully back.

Even now, a faint scent she couldn’t place – dry, unfamiliar. She pictured jagged white mountains, linen robes, figures moving slowly through quiet halls. She could imagine it all so vividly.

But she could not, no matter how hard she tried, picture the face of the woman who had written it.

She smoothed the paper between her fingers and began to read.

Leah,

What a surprise to hear from you. I hope you and your sister are both keeping well.

I have spent the better part of two years in the hills. I am in a nunnery, perched high among the peaks of the Himalayas, one of the highest places in the world. We teach the children here, those in need, those who are simply eager to learn. I lack in some areas of education, but as you may remember, I was rather good with numbers, so I do my best.

The language barrier was difficult at first, but I am learning. I understand most of the Nepalese language now, and each day I grow stronger in it.

It is a wild beauty up here. The mountains are endless, the air crisp and thin. My days are simple – prayer, tending to my duties, cleaning, washing, teaching. I find peace in it. A purpose.

I often think of you and your sister. I hope you are living fulfilling, nourishing lives.

Look after each other.

I pray for you both every day.

Mum.

Leah’s gaze drifted to the car window, her vision blurring with tears.