Chapter 15 - Arthur's Question
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That evening, Emily sat at the kitchen island of her home, a half-empty glass of red wine resting beside a mountain of financial files. She was exhausted, her mind running a million miles an hour, trying to formulate a fundraising strategy that could miraculously generate twenty million dollars before Richard could weaponize the media against her.
Arthur padded softly into the kitchen, wearing his plaid pajamas, clutching a worn-out copy of a book about the solar system. He climbed up onto the tall barstool next to her, resting his chin in his hands as he studied her face.
"You have the wrinkle between your eyebrows, Mom," Arthur noted innocently, pointing a small finger at her forehead. "Uncle Raymond says you only get that wrinkle when you are trying to fight a dragon."
Emily let out a soft, tired laugh, reaching out to gently smooth her son’s dark hair.
"Uncle Raymond is a very wise man," Emily smiled warmly. "I am trying to fight a dragon, sweetie. A very tricky one who wants to take over the castle."
"Why doesn't the dragon just build his own castle?" Arthur asked, genuinely confused by the logic.
"Because dragons like that don't know how to build things," Emily explained, her voice softening as she looked into his bright, intelligent eyes. "They only know how to take things that other people have built. And when they take them, they usually ruin them."
Arthur pondered this for a moment, tracing the rings of condensation on the granite countertop.
"Are you going to let him take the hospital?" Arthur asked, looking up at her with complete trust.
"Never," Emily said, a fierce, maternal protectiveness surging through her veins. "I helped build that hospital so that you could grow up in a world where good people take care of each other. I will not let a greedy dragon ruin that for you, or for anyone else."
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"Then you don't need to be sad," Arthur smiled brightly, hopping down from the stool. "You're the bravest person I know. You always beat the dragons."
As Arthur padded back down the hallway to his bedroom, Emily felt the overwhelming weight of the day lift from her shoulders. Her son was right. She wasn't just fighting for a building or a financial ledger. She was fighting for the legacy of integrity she intended to leave behind for him. And she would not lose.
