“Any medical history.”
Ethan froze.
“I do not know,” he admitted, shame burning his throat.
They wheeled her away.
The boys crashed into his legs, clinging like anchors.
“Do not let them take her,” Noah begged.
Ethan crouched, pulling them close. “She is not alone,” he said, even as doubt gnawed at him. “I promise.”
Promises had always come easily in business. This one felt heavier.
He called the house supervisor, a woman named Ruth Ellison, whose calm usually solved everything.
“Something is wrong,” Ethan said. “Lila collapsed. We are at Riverside.”
There was a pause.
Then Ruth spoke slowly. “Sir, I need to be honest. She has fainted before. Twice this week.”
Ethan closed his eyes. “Why did no one tell me.”
“She asked us not to,” Ruth said quietly. “She said she could not afford to see a doctor.”
The words landed like a blow. Ethan stared at the sterile wall. He had a private chef, a driver, a gym he never used. And the woman caring for his children had been afraid of a medical bill.
“Why would she think I would not help,” he asked.
Ruth hesitated. “Because she believes people like you do not keep people like her.”
Ethan looked down at his sons. They would not meet his eyes. The doctor arrived an hour later, calm and direct.
“She is stable,” he said. “Severe exhaustion and dehydration. We are keeping her overnight.”
Ethan exhaled shakily. “Can we see her.”
“Yes.”
They followed him into the room. Lila lay propped against pillows, eyes fluttering open. When she saw the boys, her face crumpled.
“I am sorry,” she whispered. “I did not mean to scare you.”
Noah grabbed her hand. “Do not do that again.”
Eli pressed his forehead against her arm. “You promised.”
Lila looked at Ethan then, her gaze holding something unreadable.
There was silence until Eli spoke again.
“Dad,” he said carefully. “We need to tell you something.”
He pulled a photograph from his pocket.
