Chapter 114: Yunalette’s Night Stroll

Yvette recalled the days gone by, those memories carried on the wind with the sound of a violin. People often glimpsed the unspoken truths of the heart in the stillness of the night. Yvette held Yunalette’s hand as they quietly walked beneath the cloak of darkness.

“Remember, don’t tell anyone about what happened tonight,” Yvette reminded Yunalette once more, not wanting Friga to start questioning her by morning.

“Okay,” Yunalette nodded earnestly, her expression one of solemn promise.

“Then go back and get some rest. Be careful not to be seen.” Yvette gently stroked Yunalette’s head.

“Goodbye, Sister Yvette,” Yunalette said obediently, bidding farewell.

Yvette nodded and was about to turn away when she felt someone grasp the hem of her robe. She turned, puzzled. “What is it?”

“Wait a moment.” Yunalette dropped the words and dashed swiftly toward her room. Minutes later, she returned, clutching a doll.

“This is for you. There are no toys in your grown-up world, and the only amusement is walking around the streets twice—which is so dull. Abby is my favorite toy; she’s the softest doll in the entire orphanage. I’ve decided to give her to you because we’re friends now.” Yunalette spoke seriously, hesitating slightly as she extended the doll into Yvette’s hands, but ultimately she placed it there.

“No, you don’t have to.”

“Please take her. Maybe with Abby by your side, you won’t feel so sad. I know, even if one tries to cover sorrow with a smile, the heart still hears it clearly.” Yunalette was earnest, convinced that Sister Yvette would never lie. She had forgotten to hide those things that could be heard with the heart.

Yvette was about to speak when Yunalette cut her off with a quick farewell and scurried back to her room.

“I’ll be waiting there for you tomorrow.”

Yvette lifted the doll toward the starlight, feeling an unprecedented warmth flow through her heart. She glanced back at the statue of the Madonna cradling the little angel atop the convent. Suddenly, she felt that her path to redemption lay in this small cloth doll.

The next day, Yunalette woke late. When Yvette saw her, she still looked half-asleep. Fortunately, the choir placed few demands on the little angels. She stood quietly, and even God could find no fault with her.

“Didn’t get much sleep last night, did you?” Sister Friga, clad in a black robe, wore a slightly stern expression.

“Hmm, I was thinking for a long time last night, so I didn’t sleep until very late.” Yunalette nodded, showing no hint of fear.

“What were you thinking about?” Sister Friga sighed. The little girl before her was unlike any she had ever met; no one knew what those adorable little thoughts in her head were.

“You say every day that God loves me, but I’ve never seen Him.”

“God is everywhere, watching over you. Maybe you can’t see Him, but do you remember what I told you? The essential things can only be seen with the heart.” Sister Friga reached out to pat Yunalette’s head.

“Hmm, I think I’ve seen God,” Yunalette nodded.

“Really?” Friga looked doubtful.

“To me, you love me like God does. Maybe God is in you.” Yunalette yawned.

“Go to sleep.” Friga waved her hand dismissively.

“All right.”

Yvette was certain Yunalette smiled at her as she passed by—like a little fox. She knew the child was trying to please her, but what could she do? Even God would smile at such a little angel.

That night, when Yvette arrived at the spot from the night before, Yunalette was already there.

“Good evening, Sister Yvette.” Having slept all afternoon, Yunalette looked especially lively.

“Good evening, Yunalette.” Yvette reached out her hand.

Together, they easily climbed over the orphanage’s wall. The thrill of committing mischief together gave them both a strange, exhilarating feeling.

“Where shall we go tonight?” Yunalette’s curiosity about the unknown future remained strong.

“How about the amusement park?” Yvette considered, then offered.

“But didn’t you say the rides close at night?” Yunalette asked, excited yet puzzled.

“We can go see, even if we can’t ride.” Yvette somewhat regretted her suggestion but, recalling the doll from yesterday, decided to take Yunalette on an adventure.

“Is that the amusement park?” Yunalette peeked cautiously from behind Yvette, eyeing the strange contraptions warily.

Though Yunalette knew little of the outside world, Yvette’s secret scaling of the wall made her sense the wrongness of their action, yet she said nothing.

“That’s right. See those? Those are the carousels. Next to them is the pirate ship, and that large windmill-like thing is called the Ferris wheel.” Yvette hadn’t felt her heart pound like this in ages. She took a deep breath, holding Yunalette’s hand as they approached the carousel.

“Do you want to ride it?” Yvette bent down to look at Yunalette, whose eyes were fixed on the colorful horses.

“Um, can I?” A joyful bloom spread across Yunalette’s face.

“Of course.” Yvette gently lifted her and placed her on a suspended horse.

As Yunalette settled, the horse dipped under gravity with a creak. Startled, Yunalette grabbed Yvette’s hand. “Is it broken?”

“It’s okay, probably because the machine’s not powered.” Yvette held her, watching until the horse remained still before answering.

Yunalette was thrilled on the horse. “Aren’t you coming up? This one is pretty big.”

After a moment’s thought, Yvette sat behind her. The little girl’s head was level with her chest, and Yvette wrapped her arms securely around her.

But Yunalette’s excitement soon waned. “Are we just going to sit here? It won’t move?”

“If it were daytime, it would move with music, but it’s late now, so it’s sleeping too.” Yvette patiently explained.

“Then let’s get down quickly.” Yunalette sounded anxious.

“Why?”

“If it’s sleeping, and we sit on it, it won’t rest well.” Yunalette said seriously.

“You said that big thing is called the Ferris wheel, right?” Yunalette strained her neck to look up at the towering structure.

“Yes, but we can’t go up now.” Yvette nodded.

“Why would we want to go so high? Is it fun there? How does it work?”

“See those little cabins? People sit inside, and the huge wheel turns. Slowly, the cabin rises to the top, then slowly comes back down.” Yvette made a circle with her hands to illustrate the wheel’s motion.

“What’s fun about that?” Yunalette was puzzled. Sitting in a small cabin like an elevator on TV—what could be enjoyable?

“It offers a completely quiet space where adults can briefly enjoy feeling far away from everything. That’s why they like it.” Yvette shared her thoughts.

“Is the adult world always so tiring?” Yunalette asked suddenly.

“Why do you ask?”

“If they enjoy life so much, why do they need the Ferris wheel to leave the familiar ground and find a quiet space?”

Yvette fell silent for a long time. In the end, she said, “You’re very smart. You’ll understand someday.”

Yunalette wanted to ask more, but a shout shattered their quiet adventure.

“Hey! Who are you?” A man resembling a patrol officer appeared in the distance, dragging his heavy frame toward them.

“Run!” Yvette tightened her grip on Yunalette’s hand. She didn’t want to spend the night in the police station waiting for the nuns to come get them.

They ran swiftly, like two graceful deer.

“If we get caught, what will happen?” Yunalette panted, barely pausing before asking.

“We’ll be taken to the police station.”

“Only bad people get sent to the police station. Are we bad?” Yunalette was shocked.

“Of course not. But good people wouldn’t do what we do.” Yvette winked.

“What does that mean? Are we good or bad?”

“We’re neither good nor bad.”

“How interesting. I always thought there were only good and bad people.”

“Good and bad aren’t fixed. Whether we’re good or bad depends on what we do.”

“Well, actually, we should be bad because we snuck out of the orphanage and entered the amusement park at night.”

“You know that’s wrong?”

“Of course. I’m not like those little kids. I understand this all. I have my own...” Yunalette faltered, realizing she couldn’t find the words to express what she felt inside. She decided to extend her reading time by an hour later.

“Value judgment?” Yvette said a word Yunalette had never heard.

“What does that mean?” Yunalette looked puzzled, repeating the strange word.

“It means you can have your own views on most things in the world. You know what is right and what is wrong.” Yvette tried to simplify, but Yunalette’s confusion only slightly lessened.

“You’re amazing to know these things.” Yunalette looked at Yvette with newfound admiration.

“It’s nothing special. You’ll learn these things too someday.” Yvette felt a little embarrassed.

“No, many nuns don’t know these things. They only say everything is God’s will, that all unfolds under His plan. They tell me everyone is God’s lambs—some good, some bad—but they never said there could be something in between. They tell me to be good but never explain what it means. Is praying every morning and singing in the choir being good? Then are those who cannot sing bad? The nuns don’t sing either. Are they bad too?” Yunalette spoke in one breath. She was clearly a child who loved to think, observing and analyzing all she saw.

“Do you dislike the orphanage?” Yvette stroked Yunalette’s hair. What a clever little one. Yvette almost wanted to kiss her.

“No, not dislike exactly. I just feel they don’t want to tell me the truth about the world. Maybe it’s my fault—I’m curious about everything.” Yunalette’s eyes sparkled brightly.

“You’re too clever, little genius. They think you’re just like the other kids.” Yvette bent down and lifted her into her arms.

“Can you teach me?” Yunalette didn’t resist. Instead, she looked intently into Yvette’s eyes, as if trying to read the secrets of the adult world hidden there.

“Teach you what?” Yvette was curious.

“Everything. Teach me all you know, Sister Yvette. I like you. You’re not like the other nuns, who say they love me but won’t seriously answer my questions.”

“I promise.” Yvette could find no reason to refuse such an angelic child.

Yunalette leaned in, and before Yvette could react, a kiss was pressed upon her cheek.

“Thank you. Can I call you Yvette?” Yunalette hugged her neck, feeling the warmth.

Yvette was at a loss.

This unreserved dependence was like an invisible rope binding her tightly. She felt pulled toward an unknown world. The sensation was like awakening a long-sleeping memory—warm and unfamiliar.

Her heartbeat quickened; a mysterious bond quietly formed. She felt herself merging with everything around her, as if she could hear the whispering wind and sense the earth’s pulse. This connection stirred excitement and fear, uncertain where it would lead.

“Yes,” she thought. She had once been a mother, or perhaps she always had been.