Celia admitted she had seen trays left untouched. The cook said he had complained several times about portions coming back uneaten. A groundskeeper remembered being told not to repair Giovanni’s heating unit because the room was “barely used.” The visiting nurse supplied records showing that a reduction in scheduled visits had been requested by household management; she had believed the family was arranging additional private support.
It was a preventable chain of bad assumptions, poor oversight, and cruelty.
Lorenzo did not send men to threaten the staff. He had the records preserved, sought independent advice about his father’s care, and removed Mrs. Gable from responsibility for it while the estate’s employment advisers reviewed her conduct. He also made clear that anyone who had helped conceal neglect would be investigated fairly.
For Nora, the next two days were miserable.
She was relieved that Giovanni was finally receiving care. She was also terrified that she would be fired for documenting problems and that someone would decide her notebook was disloyalty.
When Lorenzo asked to speak with her in the library, she expected a dismissal letter.
He held up a folder.
“Your employment contract doesn’t include elder care,” he said. “You’ve done work beyond your duties, and we failed to provide you with clear supervision.”
Nora gripped the arm of her chair.
“I wasn’t trying to cause trouble.”
“I know.”
“I need this job, Mr. Moretti.”
He glanced toward her stomach. “Celia said you’re expecting a child.”
“Yes. In a few months.”
“Do you have support?”
“Not much.”
He looked at the folder again.
“I want to correct your pay for the extra hours we can document. Going forward, if you choose to stay, your duties will be limited to work that’s safe for you. My father’s care will be handled by qualified professionals. I also want to offer you a position coordinating his daily comforts after you’re ready to return from leave, if that’s work you’d like.”
Nora blinked.
“You’re not firing me?”
“No.”
She exhaled so suddenly that it came out almost like a sob.
“But there is something else,” Lorenzo said.
Her stomach tightened again.
“My father wants to speak with you. In the way he can.”
A specialist had come that morning. She had confirmed that Giovanni could respond reliably using an eye-gaze communication board, though he fatigued quickly. A longer assessment would follow. For now, questions had to be simple, choices clear, and rests frequent.
They found Giovanni by the window.
He sat in a new, properly fitted wheelchair. The blue blanket still covered his knees.
The specialist placed a large letter board before him. With her guidance, he slowly selected words while Nora waited.
It took several minutes.
