The Sister maintains a food pantry that many members of the community donate to. She also takes in children who have nowhere else to go. Although she hasn’t fostered long term in years, children know that her home is a safe place to go for a few nights rest. The gangs tend to give her a break because she stays out of their business unless it directly impacts of her kids.

The house is better kept than most in the neighborhood. The driveway is new. The law edges are clean. The house siding is bright. The thing that stands out most about the house is the name of the woman who owns it. Sister Mary Beth is engraved by hand on a wood plant. It looks burned in, and it hang on the wall next to the door.

The Sisters House almost glows in the Hisil. The place smells like jasmine, honeysuckle and cocoa butter. Once you smell it the first time, you can smell it for blocks. You can smell it from the precinct. As you approach the door, you can see that many minor spirits live here. You smell baking cookies, hear laughter and you physically feel yourself relax. The steps are bigger as if you are a child scaling them, and the door looms dramatically. Inside, the couch itself appears to be alive. Talking in a gravelly voice with a living quilt. A wax dove flutters from place to place singing a hymn in the sister’s voice.