The ones who live hidden in plain sight (A discovery of witches story)

16- Love is stronger than death

Here come the blue skies, here come the springtime

When the rivers run high and the tears run dry

When everything that dies shall rise

Love, love, love is stronger than death

By the the

Camille had arrived for her shift in emergency today. Her maternity leave was due to start at the end of the week, and she intended to make the most of it before devoting herself entirely to Céleste.

Three hours before the end, four victims arrived following a road accident. Two adults were seriously injured, while two others, children, appeared to be much less seriously affected.

The youngest, a little girl just four years old, was crying, desperately calling out for her parents. Camille tried to comfort her, but her thoughts were focused on the father's transmissions. The prognosis was poor. Her heart sank when she heard that the mother, who was following close behind, was no better-looking. 'At least the mother, please,' she thought, imploringly, without really knowing who she was talking to.

Camille had taken charge of the two children. She had given them preliminary tests which, fortunately, were normal. They were clearly in shock. The eldest, a boy of about eight, had tears in his eyes as he whispered:

- Dad wouldn't wake up.

At these words, Camille felt a surge of sadness that almost overwhelmed her, but she fought it back. She tried to smile to reassure him.

- Are Mum and Dad going to be all right? He asked, his eyes filled with hope and fear.

Camille forced herself to remain calm.

- I know that the team is the best and that they're doing everything they can for them. But for now, we're going to make sure that you and your sister are all right, OK?

The examinations had revealed that the children only had a few scratches, and Camille had felt a weight lift from her shoulders. They had been lucky, physically at least. She stayed with them for a while, watching the little girl clutching a cuddly toy she'd picked up in the room, her little face still wet with tears. Camille couldn't help hoping with all her heart that the news about the parents would be better.

The children, still in shock, were not hungry. Camille knew there was nothing more she could do for them at the moment. A nurse took over to stay with them, and she walked with a heavy step towards the trauma room where the mother was being cared for. Through the glass, she saw the team working around the patient, no pulse on the monitor, and then the cardiac massage suddenly stopped. The silence that followed seemed to last an eternity before the declaration of death was made. Camille's heart sank. She called out to a member of the team who had been working on the father for news.

The gloom on his colleague's face did not bode well. ''Him too...'' he said simply, his voice tinged with sadness. Camille felt tears welling up in her eyes as her colleague asked about the children.

¬- Physically, they're fine. But... I'm going to page psychiatry and social services. Those poor child... His eyes clouded over.

¬- I'll take care of it,' he said, going back to work.

She thanked him and took a deep breath. Afterwards, she thought, crying. The team left the room, and the head of the department appeared, his face marked by frustration. Camille quickly informed him of the state of the children, adding in a low voice:

- The older one suspects it.

With the head of department at her side, Camille had to break the devastating news to the children: their parents had died. The children burst into tears. Camille did her best to stay strong, knowing that she couldn't cry in front of them, no matter how much she wanted to. Her thoughts turned to her own daughter and the two poor children. After comforting them as best she could, a psychiatrist arrived to take over. The head of the department, visibly touched, said to her: