Chapter 15 - The Choice
The hospital gave us a private waiting room.
I hated it immediately.
Too quiet.
Too clean.
Too familiar.
Mother had developed a dangerous heart rhythm under stress. The oncologist warned us that her body had very little reserve left.
Clara sat beside me, hands clasped so tightly her knuckles were white.
"She shouldn't have gone to the meeting."
"Try telling Eleanor Hale what she should do."
Clara almost laughed.
Then the doctor came in.
"She's awake."
We stood together.
Mother looked tiny in the hospital bed.
The monitors made her look sicker than the cancer ever had.
She lifted two fingers.
"Both of you. Closer."
We moved to the bed.
"Did they arrest him?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Good."
"Mother—"
"No speeches. I'm tired."
Clara took her hand.
Mother looked at her.
"I'm sorry."
Clara's eyes filled.
"I know."
"That isn't the same as forgiving me."
"No."
Mother nodded. "Fair."
Clara took a breath.
"But I do forgive you."
Mother closed her eyes.
One tear slipped down her cheek.
Then she looked at me.
"Bennett, stop trying to solve people."
I frowned.
"You buy things. You arrange things. You control things. Love is not a logistics problem."
Clara squeezed my arm.
I said, "I'm learning."
"Slowly."
"Apparently that's genetic."
Mother smiled.
The doctor returned an hour later and asked to speak privately.
Her treatment was no longer helping.
More aggressive intervention might give us days in a hospital.
Comfort care might give us fewer days, but at home.
The choice was Mother's.
She did not hesitate.
"Take me home."
That evening, we brought her back to the mansion.
No machines beyond what she needed. No parade of specialists.
Just her room. Her blankets. The window overlooking the gardens.
Clara made peppermint tea.
I sat beside the bed.
At two in the morning, Mother opened her eyes.
"Bennett?"
"I'm here."
"Good."
She looked toward the door.
"Where's Clara?"
"Making your fake latte."
Mother smiled.
Then her expression changed.
"There's something in the chapel you need to find before Marcus's people do."
I stared at her.
"Another secret?"
"The last one. I promise."
May you like
She whispered three words.
"Under Henry's name."
