It was as if all of Wickford had changed overnight. They were still surrounded by the same dreary weather, locked in the same dreary classrooms—but, to Millie, the place now felt entirely different now that she was no longer alone.

With Petra at her side, Millie felt she could survive this place, no matter how long she was trapped there. They were always together. They shared every meal, and every free moment, and sat together in every class. Though Millie had never been that religious, she was sure it had to have been a miracle that brought Petra to her.

In their Literature class, Sister Marion was once again at the helm. The school hadn't yet gotten a replacement teacher for Miss Thomas, so Sister Marion was still in charge, for now. Her voice rendered the girls glass-eyed as she droned on from yet another bible passage.

"Next page," Sister Marion announced to the students as she turned the page over, making a big show of it. The sounds of paper shifting filled the air as everyone followed suit, including Millie.

"Why do you bother?" Petra whispered, nodding at the open book on Millie's desk. Her own was still closed. "It's not like we're following along."

"Just in case Sister Marion comes by," Millie whispered back, shrugging.

Petra snickered. "Teacher's pet tendencies are hard to break, huh?"

"You'd be smart to do the same," Millie muttered. "I wasn't lying about Sister Marion's bad side."

"Alright, alright, I'll play along." Petra said, flopping her book open. "What page are we on, anyway?"

She reached and tugged Millie's bible closer to see. The book shifted, revealing a sliver of paper underneath. Petra saw it and shifted the book more.

"What's that?" Petra asked, perking up. "A letter?"

It was, but Millie pulled the bible back to cover it up. "It's nothing."

"Who's it from?" Petra's ever-present smile turned impish. "An admirer?"

"Hardly," Millie said, but her cheeks reddened at the mere thought.

That was enough to push Petra over the edge. Quick as a whip, she snatched the letter out from under the bible. Millie tried to grab it back, but Petra was too quick, holding it out of her reach. It was a small blessing that Sister Marion didn't notice their scuffling.

Still holding it away, Petra inspected the front, her pale brows scaling her freckled forehead.

"It's from St Thomas. Like the hospital? Ooh, is he a doctor?"

She turned it over to open it, but it was still sealed.

Finally, Millie managed to reach over and snatch the letter back.

"It's from my sister," Millie huffed, settling back into her seat. "She's staying there, in the dorms. She's training to be a nurse."

"A nurse?" Petra said with awe. "I can't imagine doing something like that. I'm sure I'd faint on the first day. She must have nerves of steel."

"She does," Millie agreed as she stuffed the letter into the back of her bible. Pride swelled in her chest when she thought of her sister.

Petra peered at her. "Why haven't you opened it?"

"I-I'm saving it."

"Saving it?" Petra echoed, confused. "For what?"

Once again, Millie's cheeks reddened. She pressed her lips together as she thought about how to respond. It was difficult to explain her strange logic, at least without sounding like she'd gone mad. To her, getting a letter was like getting rations. It wasn't often that she got one, so when she did, she had to make it stretch over a long time.

But Petra was waiting, watching her. She expected an answer. Millie dropped her head, shielding her face from Petra by a curtain of hair.

"F-For when I really need it."

Petra didn't answer.

Heart thrumming, Millie looked up to gauge Petra's expression. She hoped Petra didn't think she was strange. But she saw that the reason Petra hadn't replied was because her attention had been pulled away.

She had turned to the window—the same window through which Millie had first laid eyes on her—and was watching something beyond. She wasn't alone. Other girls had perked up, too, craning out of their seats to get a better view.

Millie's gaze followed, and quickly saw what had caught their interest.

There was another car coming up the drive.

It was grey and simple, not at all like the fancy car that had delivered Petra. As soon as it pulled to a stop in front of the house, the doors popped open. Two grey-clad men stepped out from the front, then dashed to open the doors at the back, and then stepped aside for their passengers.

Out stepped a man and a woman. The woman was plain, dressed in normal, civilian clothes.

"She must be the new teacher," one of the girls nearby said.

The man, however, was clearly from the church. He was quite tall and dressed in all black, aside from the white collar at his neck.

A small army of nuns hurried out to collect the bags, boxes, and packages that the grey men were pulling out from the boot. The imposing man ignored the bustle and headed for the door, where the Headmistress and Mother Superior were waiting. The woman followed after, and they were all led inside.

Despite the fact that the class had ground to a halt, Sister Marion didn't seem bothered. She just stood there, holding her bible, observing them with uncharacteristic patience.

The classroom door opened, and another nun poked her head in. Sister Marion beckoned to her, and the nun shuffled over. She whispered something to Sister Marion, who then nodded.

But Millie and Petrta's interest was still fixed on the scene outside.

"I wonder who that was," Petra muttered. "The man, I mean."

"Someone important," Millie guessed.

The bell rang, signalling the day's end, and waves of students spilt from the classrooms and flooded into the hall. The teachers lingered at their doors, shouting reminders to the students as they passed.

"Leave your things! You are not to go to your rooms or the dining hall, you must go to the chapel for assembly!"

Petra and Millie exchanged a glance as they passed by Sister Marion. Sister Marion narrowed her eyes at them as if she knew something they didn't.

"Don't dawdle, Miss Cunningham. That goes for you, too, Miss Downey."

"We won't, sister," Petra assured her.

Once they were out of her sight, Petra did a dramatic roll of her eyes, making Millie snicker.

They followed the sea of people as it headed towards the Drawing Room. The room was, for the most part, unchanged, though more seats had been added along the sides of the room. Those against the far wall were already filled by the house staff—the cooks, maids, and gardeners that kept a house such as Wickford running. Millie spotted the stranger from the other day, sitting next to the old groundskeeper. He had his head down like he didn't want to see or be seen.

All the girls filed into the rows in the centre of the room and took their seats. Petra and Millie took seats together, near the back. Following behind them, the teachers and nuns claimed the empty seats on the other side of the room.

The Mother Superior was already at the front, in front of the altar, accompanied by the new arrivals. Up close, the man looked even more imposing, his immense height now clear. Millie was surprised to find that he was rather young, younger than she expected for his post, though his severe expression was belied by his youth. From a distance, she had mistaken his hair for grey, but now she could see it was ash-blonde.

The woman sitting to his left looked downright mousey. It didn't help that being next to his great height made her seem smaller than usual, or that she had on a pale brown suit and glasses that magnified her dark, beady eyes.

As the Mother waited for the crowd to settle, the man studied them. His gaze traced the girls' faces like he was searching them for a sign of some kind. When it fell on Millie, he stopped. His eyes tightened, and she shrank back—his gaze was sharp, probing, and made Millie feel like she was being dissected.

She glanced away, pretending she hadn't noticed. Petra gave her a questioning look, but Millie just shook her head. She'd mention it later, if at all.

Fortunately, the Mother had stepped forward and cleared her throat, pulling everyone's attention to her.

"Before we begin," she announced, "let us pray."

Everyone dipped their heads in a moment of silent prayer.

"Let us pray," the Mother continued, "for the brave soldiers who risk their lives to keep our country, and us, safe. For our families still in London, risking their lives to keep the Empire running. And finally, for ourselves, as we make our own sacrifices here at Wickford." She went quiet and bowed her own head.

Quiet hung over them for a moment. Millie took a moment to murmur her own prayers—mostly for her sister.

After a moment passed, the Mother raised her head and smiled down at them, the picture of benevolence.

"As you may have noticed," she began, "we have a few new additions to our flock." She motioned to the side of the room where all the house staff was sitting. "First, we have a new member of our staff: Matthew Stiles, who has come from the village to assist our groundskeeper."

The young man, Matthew, shrank back against his chair, but the groundskeeper gave him a playful nudge, pushing him out of his chair. He stood but looked nervous, his hands fidgeting at his sides. To Millie's surprise, he was still wearing his gardening gloves. Mother Superior nodded at him, and he quickly retook his seat.

The Mother moved along, sweeping her arm towards the guests seated behind her. "Next, allow me to introduce our newest teacher, Miss Brodie. She'll be joining us in place of Miss Thomas, who has had to extend her stay in London. I trust you will all make her feel welcome. Welcome to Wickford, Miss Brodie."

Miss Brodie, the new teacher, stood up. She gave a polite nod to the girls, and the girls gave a weak clap in response. The Mother Superior nodded again, and Miss Brodie sat down again.

"And now, last but not least," the Mother continued, "we are fortunate to welcome a most distinguished guest. Archdeacon Ignatius Graunt has come to Wickford for a small visit. He will be surveying the grounds and ensuring you girls are receiving the best of care while you have been entrusted to us."

Archdeacon Graunt stood. He didn't bow, or nod, but instead step forward to take the Mother's spot at the front of the crowd. Mother Superior looked a little taken aback, but relinquished her spot to him.

"Thank you, Sister Grace," he said, giving her a gracious nod. "And thank you, ladies, for welcoming me into your midst. I know that it must be a harrowing experience, being parted from your families during these trying times. Despite this, we are fortunate to have you here. Know that the church, and the order, take the responsibility for your health and happiness very seriously. And it is my responsibility to ensure you have everything you need to thrive during your time here."

Beside her, Petra gave a sideways glance and waggled her eyebrows. Millie had to press her lips together to stifle a giggle.

As if he heard it, the Archdeacon's gaze once again snapped to Millie. His cold stare was penetrating as if it might bore straight through her. Millie went silent and dropped her head, cheeks burning. She tried to look over to Petra, to see if she, too, felt the Archdeacon's biting stare, but Petra was looking elsewhere.

Millie turned and found that the new groundskeeper, Matthew, was watching them, too. Petra's eyes narrowed back at the stranger as if warning him to stay away.