Page 17 of The Moonlight Healers

“What?” the same girl said to her friends as they giggled nervously in response. She stopped and turned back toward Helene. “You think so, don’t you? I can tell. You think the German is handsome.” She smiled at the friends beside her. “You know most of them are sent here from the Russian front, the ones who are sick or wounded. They let them heal, get their strength back, and then send them right back. I’m sure he’d appreciate some female attention before he leaves, don’t you think? Someone who will thank him for his bravery.” She took a step closer. “They’re proper soldiers after all. Willing to stand for what’s right. Defend our country when so many here would rather be cowards, let it fall into ruin.” Her eyes were hard as she searched Helene’s face for a reaction. “The least we can do is let them know how much we appreciate their service.”

The student wasn’t much older than Helene, but she reminded her of the older girls at her school before the war, when she’d attended regularly, the confident, pretty ones who thought it was fun to tease Helene, to whisper loudly that her father was a drunk and her mother had to work all hours of the night to support their family.

“Why don’t we ask the matron?” Elisabeth muttered, coming up behind Helene. “I’m sure she’d like to hear your thoughts, Denise.”

Denise narrowed her eyes at Elisabeth until one of her friends set a hand on her arm. “We’ll be late,” the friend said.

Denise glared at Helene and Elisabeth before continuing on down the hall, her friends flanking her on either side.

“Thank you,” Helene murmured as she walked beside Elisabeth.

“She really thinks that, you know,” Elisabeth said, voice full of disgust. “That we’re better off with them here.”

“I don’t,” Helene replied.

Elisabeth crossed her arms. “You think that’s noble? You think I’m impressed by your heroism to our national cause?”

Helene felt a surge of anger, days and weeks of frustrationat her mother’s decision to send her away building up to the point where she wanted to scream at Elisabeth’s rudeness, at her judgment.

“I don’t care what you think,” Helene said, enunciating each word clearly. “They took everything from my family.”

Elisabeth’s brown eyes softened for a moment, but then her expression closed off once more. “Noteverything, Helene.”

There was something unspoken behind Elisabeth’s words, but before Helene could ask what she meant, Elisabeth moved on.

When Helene caught up with the other girls at the end of the hallway, they were met by a surprisingly old woman, white hair visible beneath her nursing cap. Her eyes were wrinkled but sharp and clear as she surveyed the group of teenage girls.

“Good evening, Matron Durand,” Denise said in a sickeningly sweet voice.

The matron looked her up and down with barely concealed disdain. Helene stifled a smile.

“Come now, girls,” she said. “You’re tardy.”

They followed the matron down another long, arched hallway with wood paneling. Helene tried to absorb her surroundings. Several empty, unmade stretchers lined the sides, along with large metal carts filled with linens. There were heavy wooden doors spaced out in large intervals, each with a small sign in German and French beside it. At the second door, two of the nursing students broke off from the group and stepped inside.

Every so often, another group of two or three girls entered through a door. Helene craned her head as they opened, catching vague glimpses of beds and curtains.

The matron strode quickly, several paces ahead as the group dwindled. At the very end of the hallway, she didn’t turn to offer any explanation but went through another door that led to a narrow stairwell. The remaining girls trailed her up the white stone stairs until they reached the second-floor landing, where another German officer was stationed.

The matron pushed the door open and motioned for the girls to follow down a hallway identical to the one beneath it. “Arnaud, Clement,” she said as they all came to a halt.

Two girls stepped forward, smoothing down their starched dresses.

“You’ll be with Sister Marie in the surgical ward tonight.” She pointed to the door nearest them. “Aprons on as you enter.”

“Yes, Matron,” the nurses mumbled before walking through.

“Fournier, Adrien,” the matron continued, her voice echoing in the long, empty hallway.

Two other nursing students stepped forward.

“Venereal ward with Matron Renaud,” she said.

Helene noticed that only she, Elisabeth, and another new girl named Anne were left. There was a long silence as the matron looked between them. Her eyes rested on Elisabeth. “Laurent, very few of my girls have to repeat their probationary term. I am disappointed to see you here again.”

“That’s two of us,” Elisabeth muttered, her eyes cast down.

“Pardon?” the matron asked.

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