Thank you so much for your wonderful response yesterday; it made me very happy.

Telling Shelagh.

She felt it like a little explosion of force against her chest. She gasped a little in surprise, but kept it as quiet as she could. She pressed her lips together, making herself keep silent.

She had embraced Shelagh before. When she had left Nonnatus House, and when she had come back to them, huddled quietly in her little make shift bed on the floor. But it had never been quiet like this before-...

Almost running at her, Shelagh's little body collided with hers with almost enough force to knock her backwards. And Julienne caught her, she could do nothing else.

Shelagh listened carefully while Julienne told her what the letter had said. Her expression was difficult to read, her jaw clenched firmly, her eyes towards the floor.

Julienne put down the paper on the desk beside where she stood.

"Shelagh, darling," she told her, the term slipping out before she had the time to think, "Say something."

Shelagh's head was buried against her shoulder, her face pressed against her habit, so that the blue fabric muffled the sound of a strangled howl that issued from her throat. Julienne closed her eyes. Her hands wrapped tightly around Shelagh's back.

"What is there to say?" Shelagh asked hollowly, her voice very small indeed, her eyes not meeting Julienne's.

Her hand raised to Shelagh's head, cradling her gently to her, pressing her fingers into her soft hair.

"There is everything to say. This is not the end."

Shelagh sniffed harshly. Incredulity mirrored her every tiny move.

Shelagh's erratic breathing was easing a little, though her breaths still sounded tears. Julienne's hands did not relent in the slightest. She stayed, holding.

"There is everything to say," Julienne told her again, "This is only the start. Shelagh-...Love-..."

Tilting her head a little, her lips tenderly rested against Shelagh's forehead for a second and she kissed her.

"Darling-... Shelagh-..."

"I love you," she said out loud, boldly, for the first time she could remember in years, her heart in her throat, "There can be a love that does not come from birth. I promise you."

Shelagh was looking at her now. And Julienne's own eyes fell to the floor. She felt unusually unguarded. It was not really part of a nun's life, laying her heart on the line.

And the next thing she knew, Shelagh's arms were around her and she was embracing her. She wanted to cry in relief but she didn't. It didn't matter that Shelagh could not speak to reply. She knew, she knew.

"I'm not saying that everything will be alright," Julienne told her softly, "In fact for a long time things may feel very wrong. But they will come good in the end, I believe."

Shelagh's arms were clasped tightly around her waist, immovably so. And she had no wish to move her.

"Every prayer I have, I will send your way," she told her quietly, "I promise."