Chapter 12 - The Fading General
As the winter thawed into a fragile spring, a new, inevitable sorrow crept into my life.
General Arthur Pendelton, the man who had kicked down the kitchen doors and saved my life, was beginning to lose his final battle against time. The stroke he had suffered before my father’s death had weakened his heart, and the sheer adrenaline of the last year had taken a massive toll on his aging body.
I spent every single afternoon at his bedside in the private wing of the hospital.
He lay against the crisp white pillows, looking frail, but his sharp blue eyes still held the fierce, unyielding spirit of a commanding officer.
"You shouldn't be wasting your days sitting in a sterile room, Scarlett,"
Arthur rasped, coughing weakly into a tissue.
"You have a foundation to run."
"The foundation is running flawlessly, Uncle Arthur,"
I smiled gently, pouring him a fresh glass of water.
"And there is nowhere else in the world I would rather be."
Arthur reached out with a trembling, age-spotted hand. I took it immediately, holding his fragile fingers in mine.
"We gave them hell, didn't we, kid?"
Arthur whispered, a faint, proud smile touching his lips.
"We absolutely did,"
I agreed, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall.
"We burned their empire to the ground."
"Your father,"
May you like
Arthur paused, taking a slow, labored breath.
"He would have been so incredibly proud to see the woman you became in the fire."
