But even as he said it, he knew it was a lie. A soft sound came from the doorway. The night cleaning staff moved quietly through the mansion after midnight. Usually Leonard ignored them. Tonight he noticed a woman standing there, not moving, not speaking.
She was small, middle aged, with streaks of gray in her dark hair. Her uniform was simple. Her name tag read June Carter. She had worked at the estate for only six weeks. She never spoke unless spoken to. She cleaned quickly and vanished like a shadow.
Now she watched Catherine with eyes that did not look away.
Leonard felt irritation rise. “Can I help you,” he asked sharply.
June hesitated, then stepped inside. “Sir,” she said softly. “I know this sounds strange. But I have seen this kind of suffering before.”
Leonard stared at her, disbelief mixing with exhaustion.
“You are a cleaner,” he said. “I have world class doctors here. What could you possibly know that they do not.”
June did not shrink back.
“I am not saying I know more,” she replied. “I am saying I know something different. Sometimes illness is not only physical.”