The Shadow of St. Jude’s
The iron gates of St. Jude’s Home for the Wayward had stood for over a century, a fortress of grey stone against the howling winter winds.
E.g. ：I wore my mom’s vintage white blazer to the assembly and learned why nobody sits in the back row.
- 1、The Shadow of St. Jude’s
- 2、The Night of the Red Ribbon
- 3、A Voice from the Grave
- 4、The Ghost of a Secret
- 5、The Inheritance of Blood
To the locals in the valley, it was a sanctuary of mercy and quiet prayer.
To Sister Martha, the head matron for nearly two decades, it was a business of carefully managed shadows.
Martha was not a woman of God in the traditional sense, though she wore the habit with a grace that fooled everyone.
She was a woman of secrets, specifically the secrets of the wealthy families who paid her to make their "mistakes" disappear.
The orphanage was the perfect repository for children who didn't exist on any legal register.
Among these children was Elara, a seven-year-old with blonde curls and a smile that seemed too bright for such a dark place.
The Night of the Red Ribbon
The blizzard was reaching its peak when Martha decided it was time to finalize the "Transition."
The Transition was a process Martha had perfected over the years to ensure that certain children could never be traced back to their biological parents.
She had told Elara that they were playing a game of "New Names," but the reality was far more sinister.
Martha had prepared a bundle containing Elara’s birth certificate, her favorite white lace dress, and the red ribbon her mother had left with her.
In the eyes of the law and the high-society donors, burying these items meant the child Elara was officially "gone," replaced by a new identity with no history.
This was the only way to claim the massive trust fund left behind by a disgraced billionaire who wanted his legacy scrubbed clean.
Martha knelt in the courtyard, her fingers numb as she dug into the permafrost.
A Voice from the Grave
The courtyard was supposed to be empty, the heavy oak doors locked from the inside.
Martha whispered a final goodbye to the "old" Elara, satisfied that the paper trail was finally cold.
"No one will ever find you," she murmured, a sense of triumph warming her chest.
Then, a voice as light as falling snow drifted over her shoulder.
"Mama, what are you doing?"
Martha’s heart did a violent somersault against her ribs.
She turned her entire body, her knees dragging through the slush, to see a figure standing five meters away.
It was Elara, wearing the exact same white lace dress and red ribbon that Martha had just placed in the shallow grave.
The girl’s feet were bare in the snow, her skin glowing with an unnatural, porcelain luminescence under the full moon.
The Ghost of a Secret
"Elara? You... you should be in the dormitory," Martha stammered, her voice cracking.
The girl tilted her head, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders.
