Chapter 20
Emma returned to the estate as a nurse when Lucy was eleven.
For one night.
Not as staff.
That distinction caused the problem.
Lucy had appendicitis.
Fast.
Pain after dinner.
Vomiting.
Emergency department.
Surgery before midnight.
Vittorio handled the medical crisis poorly in several predictable ways.
He asked the surgeon the same question three times.
He requested a second opinion after the diagnosis was already clear.
He tried to move Lucy into a private hospital wing that did not actually improve care.
The charge nurse finally said:
“Mr. Romano.”
He stopped.
“She needs surgery.”
“Yes.”
“She has an excellent surgeon.”
“Yes.”
“Then let us work.”
He did.
Barely.
Emma heard through Lucy’s mother’s old family contact.
Not Vittorio.
She came after surgery.
In scrubs.
Tired from her own shift.
Lucy woke and saw her.
“Emma.”
“Yes.”
“You work here?”
“Different floor.”
“Stay.”
Emma looked at Vittorio.
He did not decide.
“Can you?” Lucy asked.
Emma checked the time.
“One hour.”
Not all night.
Not until discharge.
One hour.
Lucy accepted it.
That surprised Vittorio.
At six, Emma left.
Lucy slept.
The world did not collapse.
Later, when they returned home, Vittorio tried to hire a private nurse for a week.
Lucy said no.
“She needs wound checks,” he said.
“The surgeon said normal care.”
“You had surgery.”
“Yes.”
“You are eleven.”
“That doesn’t make nurse.”
He looked toward Dr. Bell on video call.
She wisely said nothing.
Vittorio hired no nurse.
The first night he checked Lucy three times.
She caught him on the third.
“Stop.”
“I was checking your temperature.”
“With hand?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sleeping.”
“I noticed.”
“Then leave.”
He left.
At breakfast the next morning Lucy ate half a piece of toast.
Stopped.
Vittorio’s body tightened automatically.
Eleven years of progress disappeared for half a second.
“Done?”
Lucy looked at him.
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
That was all.
Then she smiled slightly.
“You almost asked.”
“What?”
“If stomach.”
“I did not.”
“You face did.”
Apparently everyone could read his face now.
Unfair.
Recovery went normally.
A week later Lucy asked Emma whether she had come because she felt responsible.
Emma looked confused.
“For what?”
“Me.”
“No.”
“You used to.”
Emma thought.
“When you were little, I felt responsible for protecting you because I knew something was wrong and did not know how to get help fast enough.”
Lucy nodded.
“That is not the same as being responsible for your whole life.”
“So why come hospital?”
“Because I love you.”
Lucy looked at her.
“No job?”
“No job.”
“No guilt?”
“Some old guilt exists.”
Emma smiled sadly.
“But it did not make the decision.”
May you like
That difference mattered.
Lucy was beginning to understand adults could carry old feelings without letting old feelings choose everything.
