Helena pressed the call button at approximately one thirty.”
“And?”
“The signal was received at the nursing station.”
“Who responded?”
“No nurse was present at the station.”
Finnian felt the room narrow around him.
“Who found her?”
Mrs.
Lawson’s voice dropped.
“Elodie.”
Elodie had been downstairs finishing laundry after staying beyond her shift.
She heard something fall upstairs, ran to Helena’s room, and found her struggling to sit upright beside the bed.
Elodie called the on-duty physician, brought Helena the medication she had been instructed to use during breathing episodes, and remained beside her until morning.
The humidifier had been purchased the following day.
The medication on the reimbursement form had replaced an emergency supply that should already have been in Helena’s room.
“Why was the supply missing?” Finnian asked.
Mrs.
Lawson looked down.
“An inventory request had been delayed.”
“Delayed by whom?”
“By my office.”
Finnian stood and walked to the window.
Below him, the gardens looked immaculate.
Every hedge was shaped, every stone path washed, every flower bed maintained.
The estate had appeared flawless while his mother lay upstairs pressing a call button nobody answered.
Behind him, Isabel spoke more softly.
“Finnian, this is exactly why I did not want you dragged into every operational failure.
Mrs.
Lawson handled it.
Your mother recovered.”
He turned.
“Elodie handled it.”
Isabel’s composure cracked.
“Elodie is an employee who has ignored every boundary placed around her.
She enters Helena’s bedroom, buys gifts, stays overnight, and inserts herself into private conversations.
You should be asking what she wants.”
“I know what she wanted,” Finnian said.
“She wanted someone to answer when my mother called.”
“You barely know that woman.”
“I barely knew what was happening in my own house.”
The office door opened before Isabel could respond.
Helena sat in her wheelchair, a blue shawl around her shoulders.
Elodie stood behind her, one hand resting lightly on the chair.
Helena had heard enough.
“Isabel,” she said, “do you remember the night I asked you to stay for tea?”
Isabel’s eyes flickered.
“You were tired.
I thought you needed rest.”
“I told you I was afraid to be alone.”
“You had staff.”
“You said, ‘That is what they are paid for.’”
Isabel looked toward Finnian.
“I had an event.
We had both committed to attending.”
Finnian remembered the evening.
A charity dinner in Brookside.
