Mother Bernice's Journal

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Food running short. Cut down rations.
Water polluted. More sickness.

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More people came. Most sick already. Sisters panicking. Thank God for Leonica and her steady hand.

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Anghel dug up more graves. Already full. Running out of space.
People are scared. Fights breaking out.
God help us.

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Unrest. Fear turning to anger, desperation. Moaning, cries all night long.

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Pilgrims opened up St. Tyna’s coffin. Anghel tried to stop them, beaten unconscious by the crowd. Sent Cornelia and Theodora to intervene.

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Woke up with a fever. Dark spots on my skin. Even Leonica losing her mind now.
Lord, I beg Thee, answer our prayers.