Chapter 4
PART 4:
The next morning, Fiona asked the laundry staff who handled Arthur’s bedding.
No one wanted to answer.
One maid finally whispered, “The white pillows don’t go to laundry.”
“Why not?”
The maid looked toward the hallway.
“Orders.”
“Whose orders?”
The maid’s eyes filled with fear.
Then she walked away.
That afternoon, Fiona called the old doctor.
“I need permission to remove every pillow and blanket from Arthur’s room,” she said.
He paused.
“Did you find something?”
“Not yet. But something is wrong with the bedding.”
“You understand what you are suggesting.”
“Yes.”
“This family does not forgive embarrassment.”
“I’m not worried about embarrassment,” Fiona said. “I’m worried about Arthur.”
The doctor arrived that evening.
So did Arthur’s uncle.
And that was when the accusation started.
In front of Arthur.
In front of the old doctor.
In front of two house guards standing near the door.
The uncle held up Fiona’s notebook like it was a weapon.
“She has been writing down private information,” he said.
Fiona’s stomach tightened.
He had searched her bag.
The old doctor reached for the notebook, but the uncle pulled it back.
“She is not a nurse,” he said. “She is a spy.”
Arthur’s eyes went wide.
Fiona took one step toward the bed.
“Arthur, listen to me. I am not here to hurt you.”
The uncle laughed coldly.
“Then why are you trying to destroy his room?”
“Because this room is making him sick.”
The uncle’s face darkened.
“You think you can walk into this house and accuse us?”
“I’m accusing the evidence.”
He stepped closer.
“You have no evidence.”
That was when Arthur began to cry.
Not loudly.
Not like a child throwing a tantrum.
Silently.
Tears sliding down his cheeks as his fingers dug into the white pillow in his lap.
Fiona looked at the pillow.
Then the one behind his back.
The sour smell was stronger now.
Arthur’s neck marks were redder.
His breathing had become shallow.
Everything in Fiona went still.
The uncle saw her looking.
“Don’t touch that.”
Fiona moved anyway.
He grabbed her wrist.
The old doctor stepped forward.
“Let her go.”
For one second, the uncle hesitated.
That was all Fiona needed.
She pulled free, snatched the black scissors from the medical tray, and reached the bed.
“Arthur, don’t touch it!”
May you like
Then she cut the pillow open.
👉 And when the insects spilled onto the sheet, the family’s accusation against Fiona collapsed in front of everyone…
