Chương 6
“Of course there is.”
Claire accepted that too.
“When Marc found out Alain Perrin was Elise’s biological father, he wanted to know whether Alain had any other children.”
“And?”
“He did.”
Mathilde waited.
“Two sons.”
“Alive?”
“One is.”
Claire pulled a sheet from the folder.
“He lives in Lyon.”
Mathilde frowned.
“What does that have to do with Ines?”
“Marc contacted him.”
“When?”
“About two weeks ago.”
Mathilde closed her eyes.
Another secret action.
Another private investigation.
“What did he ask?”
“Medical history.”
“Did the man answer?”
“Yes.”
Claire passed the sheet to Mathilde.
It was a printed email.
The language was stiff and cautious.
Alain Perrin’s surviving son, Julien, described repeated kidney and urinary problems in their father’s family, including surgeries in childhood and one nephew with a congenital obstruction.
Mathilde read the paragraph twice.
“So there is a pattern.”
“There may be.”
Claire nodded toward the hall.
“Dr. Laurent should interpret that.”
Mathilde looked farther down the page.
There was another section.
Julien wrote that Marc had asked whether he would be willing to provide medical records or participate in genetic testing if physicians recommended it.
Then came the sentence that changed the temperature of the room.
I agreed, but Marc later told me the doctors no longer considered the family connection relevant and asked me not to contact the hospital directly.
Mathilde looked up.
“He lied to him too.”
Claire nodded.
“Why?”
“I think because by then he was panicking.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No.”
Claire leaned back.
“I think Marc wanted information without consequence.”
Mathilde stared at her.
Claire continued carefully.
“If the family history confirmed what he feared, then he would have to admit he had delayed care.”
Ines spoke without turning from the window.
“So he kept delaying care because he’d already delayed care.”
Nobody answered.
That was exactly it.
A terrible human loop.
Each day made the next confession harder.
Each hidden fact increased the cost of revealing the previous one.
Marc had not needed one monstrous decision.
He had needed a chain of frightened, selfish, ordinary decisions.
Mathilde hated that more.
Monsters were easier.
A nurse entered to check Ines’s blood pressure.
Claire moved aside.
The cuff inflated around Ines’s arm.
For thirty seconds nobody spoke about fathers, sisters, lies, or inherited disease.
The nurse frowned at the monitor.
“A little high.”
“No kidding,” Ines muttered.
The nurse looked at her, then at the adults, and gave a sympathetic half smile.
“Hospital glamour.”
Ines almost smiled back.
When the nurse left, Mathilde noticed Claire staring at the rabbit on the chair.
“Elise had one like that,” Claire said.
Ines turned.
“A rabbit?”
“An ugly brown bear, actually.”
“That’s not the same.”
Claire smiled weakly.
“No.”
The uselessness of the exchange somehow made the room easier to breathe in.
Then Mathilde’s phone vibrated.
Marc.
She ignored it.
It vibrated again.
Then a message appeared.
Please don’t let Claire frighten her.
Mathilde showed Claire the screen.
Claire’s mouth tightened.
“He knows I’m here.”
“How?”
“I told him.”
Mathilde stared at her.
Claire looked ashamed but did not look away.
“I texted him before I came.”
“Why?”
“Because I was afraid he would hear later and accuse me of ambushing him.”
“He might anyway.”
“I know.”
Mathilde looked at the message again.
Please don’t let Claire frighten her.
Not please tell Ines I love her.
Not how is she.
Not is she in pain.
Control even from outside the room.
Mathilde typed nothing.
A second message arrived.
There are things she does not need to know tonight.
Ines was watching her.
“What did he say?”
Mathilde made a decision.
She handed her daughter the phone.
Ines read both messages.
Her face changed.
Not dramatically.
It simply hardened.
“He keeps talking about what I need to know.”
“Yes.”
“He never asks what I want to know.”
Mathilde sat beside her.
“What do you want to know?”
Ines looked at Claire.
“Everything that affects whether I get better.”
Claire nodded immediately.
“Then that is what I’ll tell you.”
“Nothing else.”
“Nothing else.”
Mathilde felt something loosen in her chest.
A boundary.
Simple.
Specific.
Not secrecy.
Not total exposure.
Useful truth.
Claire explained that Elise’s letters and family connections did not diagnose Ines with anything.
They could help physicians understand whether her anatomical problem belonged to a broader familial pattern.
Some information might matter.
Some might not.
Ines asked whether she would need surgery.
Claire looked toward the door.
“That one is for your doctors.”
“Good answer.”
Claire gave a small laugh.
Dr. Laurent returned a few minutes later and reviewed Julien’s email.
He was careful.
He refused to turn the family story into certainty.
The imaging mattered more.
The lab results mattered more.
The family pattern could guide questions and perhaps later testing, but it did not change the immediate plan.
Ines listened closely.
“What is the immediate plan?”
“Medication tonight, monitoring, and another study in the morning.”
“And then?”
“Possibly a procedure, depending on what the specialist sees.”
“Can I go home?”
“Not tonight.”
Ines sighed.
“That was worth trying.”
Dr. Laurent smiled.
“Yes.”
Mathilde watched her daughter ask questions.
Direct questions.
No apology before them.
No glance toward an absent father to see whether the pain was permissible.
Something almost unbearable moved through her.
Pride mixed with guilt.
After Claire left, Mathilde helped Ines change into a clean shirt.
Ines complained that hospital gowns were designed by people who hated dignity.
Mathilde agreed.
They argued quietly over whether brushing teeth at midnight counted if you had eaten crackers afterward.
For five minutes they were simply mother and daughter.
Then Ines climbed back into bed.
“Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Did you tell Dad not to come home?”
Mathilde sat down.
“Yes.”
“Forever?”
“I don’t know.”
Ines studied her face.
“Are you going to leave him?”
“I don’t know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I keep not knowing.”
Ines looked down at the blanket.
“Okay.”
May you like
Mathilde brushed hair away from her forehead.
“Do you want me to leave him?”
