Page 45 of The Moonlight Healers

“I feel I owe you an apology,” Cecelia said, looking straight ahead.

Helene followed her cousin’s line of sight to the candles. Did Cecelia regret her decision to bring Helene to Dieppe, or think Helene hadn’t been ready for it? “What for?”

Cecelia clasped her hands. “I never should have… You see,I lost control of myself, in Dieppe.” She was completely still, like the statues at the front. “I was wrong, to ask of you what I did. To do what I did. What we did. I meant what I said when you arrived here. These…what you and I share, it is not of His making. And when I was tested, I not only failed, I failed you as well. And I am sorry, deeply sorry for that.”

Helene felt the wind knocked out of her. She knew her cousin forbade healing when Helene first arrived, but she was so sure that had changed after the beach.

“We helped those men,” she said. “It wasn’t wrong.”

Cecelia shook her head firmly. “What I did on that beach…what you did, is nothing more than blasphemy.”

Helene could barely believe what she was hearing. Those men had been in so much pain, and so scared. The horror of the afternoon had felt all-consuming, and yet she could cling to the work she did, the men she comforted, the way they died in peace. After years of its absence, she was acutely aware again of the power of her gift. And Cecelia was trying to turn it into something ugly. “How could you possibly feel that way?”

“I didn’t,” Cecelia said quietly. “When I was your age. When I so freely sinned, following my mother’s lead. But I…” She gathered herself. “I found my salvation here. They took me in, when I had nothing. This place saved me, Helene, and I owe it to the other sisters, and to my God, to abide by their laws.”

Helene didn’t understand what Cecelia was talking about, what she needed to be saved from, how an institution that had persecuted women just like her could be her deliverance.

But Cecelia raised a hand to silence her. “I didn’t bring you here to discuss it,” she said tersely. “I only wanted to apologize, for my lapse in judgment. What I said when you arrived remains the truth. These abilities are unnatural and have no place within these walls. And I forbid it. If it happens again, you will be dismissed from this hospital.” She stood and moved out of the pew, pausing briefly to kneel in the aisle.

Helene rose, her heart pounding in her ears. She couldn’t accept this. “I saw you out there. You helped those men.” She had spotted Cecelia again and again that day, crouched beside the soldiers, her hands on their bodies. She didn’t understand what had changed. “Why did you ask me to come?” Her voice wavered slightly. “You didn’t have to bring me to Dieppe. There was no reason to choose me.”

Cecelia lifted herself up from the floor and turned to face Helene. All of the formality was gone, and there was only a naked plea in her eyes, as though she had asked herself that same question. “I didn’t choose you, Helene. I didn’t chose any of this.”

She held Helene’s gaze for a moment before she pivoted and left. The distant thunder of church bells echoed through the convent, crashing into the silence.

* * *

Helene had spent the night in near-constant motion. Despite the transfer of a dozen soldiers to prisons in Germany during the day, the ward was still over capacity. Perhaps the chaos had become familiar after a few days, or perhaps she so desperately needed the distraction, but for the first time, she felt in control.

Elisabeth too worked with a new kind of efficiency. Even though she remained withdrawn, she seemed less tense as she tended to the British and Canadian troops. Their mere presence offered a sliver of hope, proof that beyond their occupied world, the war raged on.

When most of the men were asleep, as Elisabeth and the other probate nurses began to stock and organize supplies to prepare for the next day’s shift, Helene quietly made her way to the far side of the ward to find Thomas.

“I was hoping you might come say hello.” Thomas was wide-awake, his gray eyes watchful.

“I’m only making my rounds,” Helene lied, careful to keep her voice low.

“Of course,” he said with fake solemnity. He pushed himself up into a seated position. “Can you stay for a little while?”

Helene glanced toward the other nurses. She knew she should go assist them. Thomas followed her gaze and tilted his head thoughtfully. Then he loosened the edge of his bandage, unraveling it.

“What are you doing?” she asked, reaching out to stop him.

“You needed to redo my dressing,” he said, as the unwrapped bandage fell into a pile beside his leg. “So now you can stay.”

Helene crossed her arms, but she felt the tension in her chest release ever so slightly. “You shouldn’t do that,” she said.

“It’s already done, isn’t it?”

She sat down at the end of his cot and gathered up the bandage. Secretly she was pleased, grateful to have an excuse to stay with him, to live a little longer in the precious place they had created. It felt like standing in the sun when she was with him, a bright radiance even in the dark of night. “How are you feeling?”

Up close, his face was paler than it had been earlier in the night. His forehead was beaded with small drops of sweat at the hairline.

“Better now that you’re here.”

Helene rolled her eyes. “You don’t really talk like that, do you?”

“You don’t like it? I thought I was being charming.” He smiled.

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