Page 12 of The Moonlight Healers

Helene closed her eyes as her own inadequacy washed over her, but in the end, the exhaustion won out and she felt herself pulled toward sleep.

* * *

“Nurse Laurent may not have informed you of this, but we don’t sleep during the day here,” a loud voice rang out.

Helene’s eyes snapped open, and the room came into focus, the white stone ceiling high above her. She shifted her weight and the hard cot creaked.

“Sleep during the day is only permitted if you have worked in the wards the previous night,” the voice continued. It was deep and throaty, with a rustic cadence that reminded Helene of the way her mother spoke.

She rubbed her eyes and sat up. At the end of her bed stood a woman in a long white robe and white veil. She was tall and broad shouldered, in her late thirties or early forties, with oval blue eyes that softened an otherwise stern face.

“Helene.”

“Yes?” Helene said, reaching down to loosen her shoes, which she hadn’t even bothered to take off before falling asleep.

“I’m Sister Cecelia. Your cousin.”

Helene quickly unfolded herself and rose from the cot. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was you.”

“You were able to get settled, I see,” Cecelia said without any warmth.

Helene tried to smooth out the wrinkles in her dusty dress.

“Your matron, Madame Durand, will go over everything with you when you meet with her in her office later. However, I felt that as a courtesy to your mother, I would also offer my assistance.”

Helene nodded, her cheeks hot under Cecelia’s intense gaze.

“This is a hospital, but it is also a convent, formed many centuries ago by the Canonesses of St. Augustine of the Mercy of Jesus. You may be here to volunteer as a lay nurse, but every single soul who lives and works within these walls follows the teachings and rules of our order. We are a Catholic hospital,run by Catholic men and women. We care for the poor and the sick, because we recognize the face of Jesus in every person who comes through these doors. You may not have been called to a cloistered life, but your calling as a nurse reflects that same divine imperative. Do you understand?”

Helene nodded again. She wondered what her mother had told Cecelia, if she knew Helene hadn’t been inside a church in years, not since her father died. Her mother had continued to attend. She always said she believed in God in the same way she believed in the power of the moon cycles, a gravitational tide she could feel even if she couldn’t see.

But Helene never could bring herself to go back. God hadn’t saved her father. And God hadn’t eased his suffering in the last, excruciating months of his life. Her mother had.

“We value humility here,” Cecelia continued. “And obedience. You’ll begin your training on the wards tomorrow night after supper.” She stopped, her lips pursed as she inspected Helene. “The following will result in immediate dismissal from the hospital. Smoking in uniform, alcohol use, inappropriate conduct with a patient, or—” She paused once more. “Incompetence.”

She spoke each word with such sharpness that Helene had to chew the side of her lip to avoid flinching.

“Yes, Sister.”

Cecelia finally looked away from Helene, her eyes traveling to the small suitcase on the floor. “Your mother said in her letter that she has given you some training at home.”

“When I can, I go with her on home visits. Mostly with births. But sometimes other things, people who are ill, or hurt. I help, as much as I can. I’ve been practicing, trying to get stronger…better. But I also gather herbs and plants that—”

“Has she taught you anything of nursing care? Not herbs. Not home remedies. I’m speaking of modern medicine. Nursing as a profession,” Cecelia asked in a stern voice, cutting Helene off.

“Not very much,” Helene said quietly. “A little,” she added atthe disapproving look on Cecelia’s face. “Bed changes and some wound care. But she hasn’t worked as a nurse since the last war, in Belgium. Mostly she works as—”

Cecelia took another step forward. “I know what she is. Ahealer.”

“Well, yes…like you,” Helene said, her voice faltering. Her mother had said she hadn’t seen Cecelia since they were children, that she only knew of her whereabouts through Helene’s great-aunt. Agnes had put blind faith in this woman because of their shared blood, but how much about her did she really know?

Cecelia watched her for a long moment. “This is a hospital,” she said. “A modern one. We are nurses here. We practice medicine. We value science and technology. And this is also a Catholic institution. Where we abide by the natural laws of God. Whatever your mother has taught you, this is not the place for it.”

Helene took a step backward, almost involuntarily. She knew Cecelia was a formally trained nurse, working in a modern hospital. And yet she was a healer by lineage. Surely, she hadn’t abandoned her own birthright?

“I took you in here as a favor to your mother. Because she is family, despite—” her eyes narrowed “—our differences. But what your mother does. What you believe you can do, none of that is a part of God’s plan for us. It’s unnatural, and wrong.”

“But my mother said you—”

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