How Shoshannah finds out is no one's fucking business, thank you very much. Maybe she showed up at the church on one of her jaunts to the city (but that doesn't make sense, does it, since she at least knows more or less where he is - and even who he's with, to an extent, someone who can help him heal), or maybe she called his pager and got the new priest who doesn't know who Shoshannah Mitchell is, who just gets rolled eyes and mutters from Rosa when asked about the girl who says she used to live in the rectory and helped clean out the basement - which is a beacon of organization and tidiness now, with labels written in a rounded, curved, looped, slightly exotic script.
It doesn't really matter how she finds out, or why. What matters is that, while all her self-assigned chores are taken care of, there's now an addition to the 'Shoshannah is . . .' wheel on the fridge that says NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS, and a note next to it that says 'If you want library access, leave a note by the computer and I'll deal with it.'
And then she's gone, at least for a couple days - but not far, because her bike and all her instruments but the ukulele stay where they are. And if anyone looks? Somewhere on the property, at the very furthest corner, there's a tent. But she's not talking to anyone. No tears, no drama, just radio silence.
It doesn't really matter how she finds out, or why. What matters is that, while all her self-assigned chores are taken care of, there's now an addition to the 'Shoshannah is . . .' wheel on the fridge that says NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS, and a note next to it that says 'If you want library access, leave a note by the computer and I'll deal with it.'
And then she's gone, at least for a couple days - but not far, because her bike and all her instruments but the ukulele stay where they are. And if anyone looks? Somewhere on the property, at the very furthest corner, there's a tent. But she's not talking to anyone. No tears, no drama, just radio silence.