Well wasn't this inconvenient.

Ursula would pick the most unsuitable time to fall deathly ill. He needed to return to school and she was fading away. The prognosis was not good, despite his paying for the highest quality healers. Apparently this last child was going to do her in.

His grumbles were a mask for the concern of course, as much as he enjoyed complaining about Ursula, he had never envisioned she'd die before him. So inconvenient. While dealing with the switching of healers, Phineas was interrupted by one of the staff to say his wife was asking after him. He gave the healer the eyebrow of, this conversation is not over before whisking away.

Upon entering, Phineas bristled at the feel of the room, though tried his best not to show it. He approached her bedside slowly, eyeing her carefully. Lowering himself to perch gently on the mattress, he looked her over and fought the urge to scowl. "I cannot get a solid answer." Tonight, days from now, a week at most. Nobody had a solid answer to meet his satisfaction. "I've asked for someone more competent to be sent over." He assured her, bedside manner no better than his everyday manner.