“Who is she?”
“The person who noticed Sophie was in pain while the rest of us were calling her difficult.”
The woman stiffened.
“I told you, I was trying to help.”
“You gave her medication that was not prescribed to her.”
“It was a small amount.”
“The hospital flagged her bloodwork.”
“She was screaming all morning, Alexander.
We had a flight.
We had plans.”
Estelle saw the exact instant those words ended the argument.
Not because they were loud.
Because they revealed the priority.
Plans.
Convenience.
Silence.
Alexander looked at the woman he had expected to marry.
“My daughter was sick.”
“She was being impossible.”
“No,” Estelle said before she could stop herself.
“She was communicating.”
The fiancée turned sharply.
“This is none of your business.”
Estelle rose.
“You’re right.”
She handed the rabbit back to Sophie and stepped away.
But Sophie immediately reached toward her.
“Estelle.”
It was the first time the child had said her name.
Everyone froze.
Estelle turned.
Sophie’s little hand remained extended.
Alexander looked from his daughter to his fiancée.
Then he made his decision.
“Go,” he told the woman.
She stared at him.
“What?”
“Our engagement is over.”
“You cannot be serious.”
“I trusted you with Sophie.”
“I made one mistake.”
“You made a choice.
Then when she got sick, you defended the convenience of it.”
Her face hardened.
“And you’re taking the word of some nanny who accidentally climbed onto your plane?”
Alexander’s voice stayed quiet.
“No.
I’m taking the hospital’s bloodwork, your signature and your own explanation.”
There was nothing left for her to argue with.
She left furious, but she left.
Alexander did not look triumphant afterward.
He sat beside Sophie while the doctor finished the examination and looked exhausted in a way Estelle recognized.
Not lack of sleep.
Something deeper.
The collapse of certainty.
Sophie was expected to recover fully.
