"Are you ready, Emily?"
The gentle voice reached her ears, and the girl gave a soft nod.
She was sitting on the stone steps of the church, quietly tying her shoelaces.
A carriage stood waiting outside, ready to take her to where her new life would begin.
"You're sure you don't want me to pack anything else?" asked a nun with worry in her voice. Emily hadn't taken much food with her.
"Anna, stop fussing. She's already packed more than enough—most of it needless, though," came a dry laugh from an older nun who had asked Emily previously.
"But still… most of the things she's bringing won't even help her," Anna muttered.
And she wasn't wrong. More than half of Emily's luggage had nothing to do with daily needs.
Not clothes. Not food. Not tools.
Instead, what filled most of the space were—
"Paintings... and scribbles," Anna sighed. "I don't understand your attachment to them."
Her eyes drifted to the carriage, where the driver had carefully placed a row of neat frames.
