July 6th, 1794. The first name was called.
Sister Suzanne Deloye. A Benedictine nun. Sixty-eight years old. She had spent her entire life copying sacred texts by candlelight. Now she walked from her cell to face a tribunal that had already decided her fate.
The questions were always the same. Will you swear the oath? Will you renounce your fanaticism?
Her answer was always the same. No.
Guilty. Death.
She never came back to the prison that night.
July 7th. Sister Marie Suzanne de Gaillard. Dead.
July 9th and 10th. Four Ursulines in two days. Dead.
Every morning, the remaining nuns woke up not knowing who would be taken next. Every evening, their circle grew smaller.
But they did not break.
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