Chapter 7
The nurse was named Miriam Cole.
She asked to speak before I summoned her.
Good.
We met in the morning room.
She looked exhausted.
“Why did you cooperate?”
Her eyes filled immediately.
“Because I thought Verity had agreed.”
I stared.
Miriam explained.
Eudora told her Verity suffered a severe emotional collapse after delivery.
That seeing the child would endanger both of them.
No medical detail.
Just enough authority to sound plausible.
Then Eudora said arrangements had been made for relatives to care for the baby temporarily.
Miriam objected.
Asked for direct confirmation.
Cedric arrived.
Told her the mother had already consented.
“Did you see consent?”
“No.”
“Did you speak to Verity?”
“No.”
“Then why continue?”
She looked ashamed.
“Because everyone above me spoke as though the decision was settled.”
There.
Hierarchy again.
Not ignorance.
Submission to certainty.
I asked about the monitor.
Miriam had insisted one stay with August at all times.
Eudora kept the receiver in her bag because she wanted to know if he woke while guests were downstairs.
The very precaution meant to protect the baby exposed them.
Irony.
Useful.
“Who told Verity the child died?”
“Eudora.”
“Were you there?”
“No.”
“Did you know afterward?”
Miriam hesitated.
Then nodded.
There.
Different guilt.
“When?”
The next day.
She heard Verity asking to see the body.
Eudora told her not to enter the room.
Miriam knew then.
She still remained silent five more days.
“Why?”
Fear.
Job.
Cedric’s name.
Eudora becoming my wife.
The belief that exposing the truth would destroy three families.
All understandable.
None enough.
“What do you want me to say?”
Miriam whispered.
“Nothing.”
She was not asking absolution.
Good.
I removed her from private nursery work temporarily.
Not from the estate.
She would not make independent decisions around vulnerable patients until trust returned.
She accepted it.
Then asked:
“Can I apologize to Verity?”
“That’s Verity’s decision.”
Important.
Everyone kept looking at me as though I owned the mother’s access.
May you like
I did not.
For once, I wanted every door pointed toward the correct person.
