The Wound Beneath the Skill
Arthur was able to speak in full sentences the following evening.
His throat was raw. His face looked ten years older. But when Lucas entered the hospital room, Arthur asked the nurses to leave and waited until the door shut before he said the words that had missed their time by three years.
"I failed you."
Lucas remained standing.
Sunset laid a weak stripe of light across the blanket. Machines clicked softly. For a while he said nothing.
Then he laughed once, without humor.
"That’s one way to put it."
Arthur did not defend himself.
Lucas moved to the window and looked down at the hospital car park. "I thought my mother died in a place built to protect people because nobody in this family wanted the paperwork to look bad. Then when I found proof something was wrong, you stood in front of a room full of strangers and made me sound unstable. Do you know what that did?"
Arthur’s eyes reddened. "Yes. Too late, but yes."
"No, you don’t." Lucas turned back. His voice stayed low, and that made it heavier. "It taught me that being right did not matter if the wrong person held the microphone. It taught me that I could lose my mother, lose my home, and still be told to speak more politely about it."
Arthur bowed his head.
After a long moment he said, "I found irregularities before Catherine died, but not enough to prove criminal intent. After her death, I started to see what you saw. By then Maria had access to my correspondence, and Reeve had allies on the board. I believed that if I discredited your accusations publicly, they would stop watching you long enough for me to investigate quietly."
Lucas stared at him.
"You used me as bait."
Arthur flinched. "I told myself I was protecting you. In truth, I was protecting the family name and pretending I could do both."
That was the first honest thing he had said.
Lucas pressed the heel of his hand against the scar near his left nostril, an old habit from the years when he was trying not to break. "I became an EMT because I could not save her," he said. "Every airway I open, every chest I stabilize, it’s still her. It’s still that room."
Arthur’s hands trembled above the blanket. "I know I may not deserve another chance with you."
Lucas looked at him for a long time.
May you like
"No," he said. "You don’t deserve it. But you’re alive, and I’m not ready to bury another truth because it arrived late. So tell me everything."
Arthur did.
