Eyes.

"Who are you?"
Shelagh sighed in relief when she saw that the old nun had her eyes open. She put a hand on the nun's forehead, there was still fever, but at least she was out of the weakness that afflicted her all day.
"I'm Shelagh,Sister. I'm taking care of you because Sister Julienne is sick too."

The nun shook her head, extended a hand, tried to touch Shelagh's face.
"Those eyes...I met someone with those eyes long ago, but I don't remember her name."

Shelagh smiled and took the bony hand, hiding it under the duvet.
"You don't have to be cold, Sister." She said softly, but the nun again shook her head.

"Those eyes...there was a time when they were always sad, empty...there was a lot of loneliness in them. But I still don't remember who they belonged to."

Shelagh swallowed the knot forming in her throat, invented a forced smile.

"Yes, there was a lot of loneliness in them." She stared at the floor, trying to avoid the look full of mixed memories that analyzed her from the bed.

"It's you, Sister Bernadette!" She heard joy and looked up to see the old woman with the emotion painted on her face. "Where have you been, Sister?"

"I was always here, Sister," she caressed her forehead again, softly. The nun closed her eyes, smiling. "It's always me. I didn't change."

"Oh yes, you've changed." The statement sounded harsh and she tried not to look at her, nor did she want to hear what the woman might say. But the nun opened her eyelids, and took her hand out from under the duvet to squeeze her own. "You've changed a lot, girl. Your eyes look so happy now!"