My name is Nicoletta and I have lived in the convent for years, dedicating my life to serving others and following the path of faith that I have chosen. My day is punctuated by prayers, liturgical celebrations and moments of silence and reflection. But today, something has changed.<br>Sitting on my simple bed in the room, I look out the window. The convent garden is in bloom, the colorful flowers dancing softly in the spring wind. But their splendor fails to cheer me up. A heaviness oppresses my heart, a thought that has crept into me like a woodworm. I can't shake the idea that I no longer believe in God.<br>As I listen to the birds singing, I remember the moments when faith was a safe refuge for me. The evening prayers, the candlelight, communion with the step sisters. But now, as I struggle to recite the words that once flowed naturally, I feel an unfillable void<br>"How could I have gotten here?" I ask myself, my gaze falling to the simple blankets of my bed. The idea that I have d

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