“I’ve seen results,” Hugo agreed, his amber eyes boring into hers. “But I’ve also seen what happens when good intentions go wrong. When people with limited knowledge attempt to treat conditions they don’t fully understand.”
Why is he being so unreasonable? Yesterday, he was encouraging my interest in herbal medicine, and now, he’s acting as though I’m some reckless amateur.
“I would never give them anything I hadn’t tested thoroughly,” she said, trying to inject calm into her voice. “Everything in that basket was prepared according to established methods, using ingredients I’ve grown myself or purchased from reputable sources.”
“No matter, you have no business administering any treatment to those children without proper consultation,” Hugo said coldly.
“Proper consultation with whom?” she demanded. “The nearest physician is a two-hour ride away, and by the time he arrives, simple coughs could develop into something far more serious.”
“Better than risking their lives without proper consultation.”
“And who exactly should I have consulted?” she demanded. “You? What do you know about treating childhood illnesses beyond what any concerned father might know?”
Hugo’s jaw tightened dangerously. “I know enough to recognize when someone is acting beyond their competence.”
“My competence has treated everything from minor injuries to serious illnesses without a single loss of life,” she said with icy precision.
Hugo stepped closer, close enough that she could see the gold flecks in his angry amber eyes. “Well, that competence will involve exposing yourself to illness for the sake of people you feelresponsible for. Involve risks you refuse to acknowledge because you’re so focused on helping that you can’t see the potential for harm.”
He’s afraid.The realization hit her with sudden, startling clarity.He’s not angry, he’s terrified.
But terrified of what? That she might harm the children? Or something else entirely?
“Hugo,” she said more gently, “I would never do anything to endanger those girls. You must know that.”
“What I know,” he said, his voice rough with emotion she didn’t entirely understand, “is that you have a dangerous tendency to put others’ welfare ahead of your own safety. And that you refuse to acknowledge when you’re taking risks that could have devastating consequences.”
“I’m perfectly capable of assessing risk,” she said though with less conviction than before.
“And what happens when there isn’t time for assessing risks? When children are suffering, and you feel pressured to act quickly?”
When children are suffering. Like Emmie was suffering when I finally found her.
The memory hit without warning—Emmie’s fever-bright eyes, her desperate gasps for air, the way she’d begged for something, anything, to ease her pain. And Sybil’s desperate attempts to help, trying remedy after remedy while watching helplessly as her sister slipped away.
Is that what he’s thinking about? How good intentions go wrong when time is running out?
“I understand your concerns,” she said quietly. “But I also understand that sometimes action is necessary even when the outcome is uncertain.”
“You have a tendency to sacrifice your own well-being for others without considering the impact of losing you.” Hugo said, his voice dropping to that intimate register that made her pulse quicken despite their argument.
The impact of losing you.
“You’re going to give up this work,” he said finally. It wasn’t a question.
“No,” she said simply. “I’m not.”
“Even if I forbid it?”
Forbid it? As if he has that right.
“You can’t forbid me from using knowledge I’ve spent years acquiring,” she said, lifting her chin defiantly. “You can’t forbid me from helping people who need assistance.”
“I can forbid you from taking unnecessary risks that could endanger your health or safety.”
“The children need me,” she said simply.
“I need you.”
