Chapter 3 - The Doctor’s Arrival
Within the hour, the heavy front gates of St. Jude’s Convent creaked open to admit Doctor Paloma, a sharp-eyed, no-nonsense woman whose decades of medical practice had stripped away her patience for superstition and blind faith. She carried her worn leather medical case with an air of clinical exhaustion, greeted Mother Caridad with a grim nod, and immediately requested a private examination room. The atmosphere inside the convent infirmary was thick with tension; the lingering smell of burning tallow candles mixed with the sterile aroma of rubbing alcohol.
Sister Esperanza entered the room with her usual unsettling calm, handing her youngest child to a nearby novice nun before lying back on the examination table. She did not flinch or show a single ounce of anxiety as Doctor Paloma readied her instruments.
"Sister Esperanza, Mother Caridad tells me we have a situation to investigate," Doctor Paloma said professionally, her tone clipped and analytical as she pulled a pair of latex gloves over her hands.
"Yes, Doctor. The Lord has blessed me once more," Esperanza replied smoothly, staring up at the stone ceiling with an expression of beatific detachment that made the hairs on the back of Mother Caridad's neck stand straight up.
Doctor Paloma began the examination with practiced precision, checking vital signs, listening to the rhythm of the young nun's heart, and performing the necessary physical checks to confirm the early markers of pregnancy. Mother Caridad stood in the corner of the small room, her fingers locked tightly together, her fingernails digging painfully into her palms as she prayed for a medical miracle—not of a child, but of an explanation rooted in earthly biology or hormonal imbalance.
After several long, agonizing minutes of quiet clinical work, Doctor Paloma stepped back from the table. She removed her gloves, tossing them into the waste bin with a sharp snap, and turned to face Mother Caridad. The physician’s face was completely drained of color, her eyes wide with a mixture of profound shock and deep, unsettling disbelief. She swallowed hard before she could find her voice.
"Well?" Mother Caridad pressed forward, her voice trembling uncontrollably. "Is it true, Doctor? Can she... is she truly carrying a child?"
Doctor Paloma looked away from the mother superior for a brief second, casting a sideways glance at Sister Esperanza, who was now calmly buttoning her habit back up with a serene smile. The doctor lowered her voice so only Mother Caridad could hear, stepping closer and speaking in a harsh, rattled whisper.
"Mother... the biological signs are undeniable," Doctor Paloma confessed, her hands shaking slightly as she picked up her clipboard. "The hormonal shifts, the uterine changes, everything points directly to the early stages of gestation. She is pregnant. Just as she was the first two times."
Mother Caridad felt the floor drop out from under her feet. She grabbed the edge of a wooden cabinet to steady herself, the room spinning wildly around her. If Esperanza was truly pregnant, and if no man had ever breached the convent walls, then the terrifying implications defied every law of nature and theology alike. Was it truly a miracle, a demonic deception, or something far more sinister orchestrated by mortal hands?
"Thank you, Doctor," Mother Caridad forced herself to say, her voice sounding hollow and distant. "Please... leave us for a moment. I need to speak with Sister Esperanza alone."
With a worried, lingering look, Doctor Paloma gathered her equipment and quietly exited the infirmary, closing the heavy wooden door behind her. Mother Caridad turned slowly to face the young nun, who was sitting upright on the edge of the bed, gently smoothing the fabric of her skirt. The mask of holy serenity on Esperanza's face remained utterly unbroken, but deep within the dark pupils of her eyes, Mother Caridad finally caught a fleeting, microscopic flicker of calculation—a sudden spark of human cunning that did not belong to a saint.
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"You see, Mother?" Esperanza whispered softly, tilting her head. "Science only confirms what faith already knows. God's ways are beyond our understanding."
"No, Esperanza," Mother Caridad replied, her voice dropping all pretense of gentleness, hardening into cold, uncompromising steel as she pulled the tiny piece of medical tape from her pocket and held it out in the palm of her hand. "God has nothing to do with this. And it is time you stopped playing the innocent saint."
