Carrie swallowed. “Mom… we asked you to stop.” “I know,” Eleanor said, turning toward her daughter. Her eyes were glassy now. “And I should have listened. I truly thought it was harmless. I never would’ve given her anything if I thought—” She stopped, shaking her head. The doctor held up a hand, not to interrupt, but to slow the moment.
“It may be nothing,” he said evenly. “Most garden plants are benign, and many cases like this turn out to have unrelated causes. But given Maxine’s symptoms, we need to be thorough. Testing doesn’t mean blame.” Eleanor nodded, wiping at her eyes. “Of course,” she said. “Whatever you need.”