Chapter 4: The Doctor’s Diagnosis**
By noon, Dr. Evans stepped into Arthur’s private study, removing his wire-rimmed spectacles and wiping them with a sigh.
“Severe bronchial pneumonia,” Evans said without preamble. “Her immune system is completely depleted. If she had worked another forty-eight hours in this condition, Arthur, you would have had an ambulance taking a body out of your basement.”
Arthur leaned back in his leather chair, his jaw clenched. “How did it get this bad without anyone noticing?”
“Chronic stress, malnutrition, and working sixteen-hour days without rest,” the doctor replied, looking directly at his long-time friend. “She told me she takes evening cleaning jobs downtown after finishing her shifts here. She’s running on fumes to pay off medical debt.”
“Whose debt?”
“Her late husband’s,” Evans said. “He died of cancer two years ago. Left her with nothing but unpaid hospital bills and a toddler. The collection agencies have been garnishing her wages. She barely takes home enough to buy groceries.”
Arthur stared out the tall arched windows overlooking his manicured gardens. Below, on the stone patio, Nora was carefully inspecting a dandelion, her laughter carrying faintly through the double-paned glass under the watchful eye of Mrs. Gable.
“Get her the best specialists, Evans,” Arthur said quietly. “Private nursing, whatever medication she needs. Bill it directly to my personal account.”
“She’s a proud woman, Arthur. She might refuse charity.”
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“Then don’t tell her it’s charity,” Arthur replied, his voice hardening with resolve. “Tell her it’s corporate health benefits. Invent a policy if you have to. Just save her.”
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