SilversThreads

The convent bells rang out through the French capital signaling time for Mass, as a small girl made her way to her hiding spot. A small space between a stone statue and a wall. It was there she waited till the halls and courtyard grew silent, before making her way to the large iron gates. Taking a hairpin from her chestnut hair she picked the lock that had kept her there for as long as she could remember. Hearing the tell tale click she slipped out into the street, careful as she closed the gate and locked it back without a sound. Quickly, she made her way to the nearest alleyway checking to make sure no one was around. She changed out of ...