1. Evie

one

Present Moment

“You know I had to leave.” Father”s tone was laced with sadness. I understood it.

We didn”t leave New York willingly. We were forced to due to my mother’s death.

Dad couldn”t live in the house without reliving the memories of him and Mom. It was too much for him to bear. He needed a fresh start, hence the move.

Mr. Thorne cleared his throat. “I don”t blame you, James.” His voice was dry, but I could tell he was grieving too — he’d lost his wife as well a year and a half ago. Father told me.

The silence in the room became awkward, especially with me standing at a distance behind my father’s seated frame. Mr. Thorne was staring right at Father, and although I couldn”t see him, I knew Father was staring right back.

I”d never thought of a scenario where Father’s move hurt this … billionaire CEO.

I mean, I knew Father was hurt by a lot of things, mother’s death and leaving his best friend. But I”d just never thought…that maybe someone as rich as Mr. Thorne could feel the impact of the change.

Right now, staring at the slight, almost unnoticeable clench in his fist, I noticed it.

He missed my father.

Growing up, I”d found it quite far-fetched that people from different socioeconomic strata could establish or even maintain a relationship, but they did.

Even in times when my father felt less of himself, Mr. Thorne did his best to maintain the friendship.

“I don”t think I need to ask how your company has been faring. Your exploits and the news of your success is worldwide.”

Mr. Thorne nodded slightly before unclenching his fist. “I”m in Minnesota to recruit excellent researchers in the field of Biomedics and propose the idea of establishing internships for brilliant students. All toward a new project I”m working on.”

I didn”t know if this man couldn”t figure out what a compliment was or how to take it, but from his voice and dry tone, he seemed unmoved by my father’s words. No happiness, no joy, no gratitude. Nothing. Proud much?

I”d barely folded my arms across my chest when I heard Father’s voice.

He didn”t sound disappointed. In fact, he sounded very happy. “That”s great, Ethan...”

Of course, Father must have been used to it.

“But what exactly is Biomedics, and why Minnesota?” I stared at my father’s bald head, a tinge of embarrassment washing through me. I wasn”t surprised though.

I loved my father beyond words. We only had each other. And regardless of how he felt about Mother”s death, he constantly showed me the best version of himself.

Still, I couldn’t deny he was always a bit slow when it came to technology and its applications, completely out of place in the twenty-first century and its advancements.

He never took a liking to tech; this was obviously why his best friend was super rich, and Father, well,… barely middle class. Maybe lower class. He had told me that he and Mr. Thorne had been best friends since college.

After college, they began the struggle to make ends meet.

His friend continued to chase a career in tech, while Dad chose carpentry. Yeah, he did. He actually studied it.

Dad’s passion for carpentry stemmed, in his words, from a deep corner of his heart. So he decided to chase a career in it. He did, and it started to work out, but very slowly.

While he was busy struggling to gather a market base, Mr. Thorne’s start-up rapidly started to gain recognition. In no time, he attracted the attention of major stakeholders, and that was his breakthrough.

Dad, on the other hand, kept struggling until his friend decided to help him.

Mr. Throne connected my father with the right clients and invested heavily in his carpentry business.

That went fine until Mother was diagnosed with advanced-stage pancreatic cancer seven years ago. Then, his whole career and our life took a whole different turn.

Since Dad refused financial help from his best friend, the little he’d accumulated was spent on Mother till she passed away two years after her diagnosis. Then he—we—were left with nothing.

We moved from New York two years later to Minnesota, where I enrolled in college. Within those two years, his best friend got married and they had a daughter, Sophie.

Fast forward to three years later, Dad still refuses financial help from his friend and hasn”t been able to handle his career properly due to Mother’s death.

So we’re here, in a decent two-bedroom apartment situated in the economically challenged part of Minnesota. And in this living room, where Dad doesn”t know what Biomedics is or why his best friend has shown interest in Minnesota University.

I dragged my eyes from the spot on his head to his friend.

Where his friend was devilishly handsome and didn’t look a day over thirty, Dad wasn’t. Due to the stress of losing Mother and other economic hardship he faced, Dad looked exactly his age.

Either way, Mr. Thorne seemed unfazed by Dad’s question.

Even with a double major in psychology and children”s education, I knew the University of Minnesota is known for its strong research programs in biomedical sciences. It”s not exactly rocket science that he”s here.

“Simply put, biomedicine incorporates research in various ways to advance diagnosis and treatment, and the University of Minnesota has what I”m looking for.”

“I see. But still, you didn”t think of telling me you”d be visiting when we spoke three days ago.”

A small smirk made its way to his lips. “I did think about it but I didn”t want to do that.”

I resisted the urge to raise my brows in shock. He had a sense of humor?

Father chuckled. Then he followed.

Fuck.

My heart raced a thousand miles per minute as I watched the corner of his eyes wrinkle beautifully.

The sound of his laughter was heavenly divine. If laughter had texture, his would feel like honey and butter. That”s how softly it hit my heart.

I quickly placed my hand on my chest to curtail the erratic beating of my heart. Their words were now a blur to me as I could hear my heart in my ears.

No, Evie. Just no.

I think I should go to my room. Lock myself in and not show my face until this man went away. As I turned to follow through, I heard my name.

“…. Evie.”

I turned to see both of them staring at me. Wait, not just staring, expecting. They were expecting something from me. Like a response? Had they asked a question?

“Uh?”

“Oh, silly you. I just mentioned that we haven”t served our guest.”

Oh. Briefly, I let my eyes land on Mr. Thorne. Well, I didn”t expect anything other than his dry look. No, maybe I did expect something– a slight protest. A no, thank you, don”t bother.

But there was none.

“...Right.” I headed in the direction of the kitchen.

Once I was within the slowly peeling walls, I released a much-needed breath before opening the fridge. Half-eaten bread, jam, eggs, and a bottle of water stared back at me.

I doubted the billionaire would take jam and bread. Cooking wasn”t also my forte so I was left with a bottle of water.

Without second thoughts, I grabbed the bottle of water along with a neat glass cup and made my way towards them.

Dad knew we barely had anything so…

When I was at a distance, I intentionally slowed my pace. I didn”t know whether it was the water or the sudden nervousness that clammed my palms.

“…She doesn”t seem to be getting better. I”ve employed different strategies and therapists but she”s unresponsive to any.” Mr. Throne’s voice was considerably low, another strange thing was the emotion in it. Sadness.

It was as clear as day. It dripped through each of his words as I placed my ear against thin air to eavesdrop properly.

“How long now?”

“It happened when she was three. A year and a half later, she”s changed so much.”

I didn”t need anything to know that the conversation was about his daughter. But what happened? Last I knew, Sophie was fine.

“So you stopped therapy?”

Therapy?

The bottle of water almost slipped from my fist but my reflexes were faster.

“For a while yes,” Mr. Thorne sighed. “She wasn”t getting better anyway. I wanted to give her a break.”

“And the nanny? I hope she isn”t complicating issues?” Father”s voice was soft — tender even.

“Not at all. Sophie is quite used to the nanny, but even the nanny has informed me that she’d be away for a month to take care of her sick mother.”

Oh.With narrowed eyes, I stood rooted in my spot, still trying to figure all this out. Therapist? Sophie? What exactly was going on?

There was silence for a while as I was left to my thoughts. When was Dad going to let me know about this?

“Have you found another nanny?”

Mr. Thorne’s sigh this time was heavier. “Not yet...” He trailed. “Sophie is a special child and I have to carefully handpick the best for her.”

Dad didn”t seem to have anything to say after this. The silence that stretched after this almost forced my feet in their direction. But just as I moved to do so, Dad started.

“My daughter, Evie, just graduated. Double major in psychology and special education.” There was a slight pause before he cleared his throat.

I could imagine him readjusting himself with both palms against his knee. That was usually the stance he took when he was serious.

“It has been my daughter’s dream before, and since her mother’s death, to work as a special education teacher in a particular academy. Despite her double major in special education and psychology, there are certain requirements she needs to meet to work in her dream school, the most important being a minimum of two years requirement working as a special educator for children.”

I swallowed thickly. I knew what would come next.

“How about Evie helps you and Sophie out while your Nanny is away?”

I didn”t expect him to reply immediately, but the silence that stretched after made me fear that his reply would be negative. Fear because I wanted it to be positive. Beyond the money he’d most likely pay and the experience, I wanted to help Sophie.

“I apologize, James, but I”m not sure that”s a great idea.”

My heart sank. Of course, he”s a billionaire. He could afford any professional he wanted. Why me, a recent graduate with no experience?

“Ethan, please, think about this. You’ve tried different professionals in the past, but none yielded results. How about you try something different this time— someone different. Plus, Evie won”t be a strange face to Sophie.”

I wouldn”t. I’ve known Sophie for half her life.

Mr. Thorne heaved, his voice getting heavier with each word. “I know, but—”

“Sometimes less is more, my friend.” Father breathed. “Sometimes the solution lies in the little things. Although I’m confident in Evie’s ability to help your daughter.”

“But… you and I know Sophie needs experts.” Mr. Thorne’s voice was strained so much that I couldn”t resist the urge to peek from the edge of the wall.

He looked distraught, with hands running through his hair every second. I quickly willed my mind to not think astray.

He looked like he wanted to say more when Father shook his head softly. “She just needs time. Time in the hands of the right person.”

I watched the deep rise of Mr. Thorne’s chest before it fell. He seemed to be in deep thought. From here, I could even see the wheels spinning in his head.

“Please, my friend,” Dad’s voice was barely audible. “I want you to help me… help Evie. That school has been her dream. She needs this just as much as Sophie does.”

I do need this. For years, I”ve dreamt of working in the prestigious Everest Academy, a school for special needs children. It was my mother”s failed dream, and I”ve always loved to help children.

Plus being accepted in an academy like that has the potential to set me up for a long time. The pay was high, really, really high. But the volunteering experience was a prerequisite to achieving my dreams.

If my experience came from Mr. Thorne, it wouldn”t just be that I fulfilled a requirement. I’d have fulfilled it for the most successful technopreneur in New York. His name alone would pave the way for me.

Also, there was a probability of receiving a high salary from him. This could help me and Dad’s current situation.

“I— I’m sorry, James, but I need time to think about this.”

“Please, Ethan, do me this favor.”

Even with that statement, I knew it was a hard choice to make. I understood Mr. Thorne’s conflict.

But I also understood what was at stake for Dad and me. It was why I was now heading towards the living room with a sudden surge of confidence.

I didn”t earn a double major at twenty-one just to be declined by sentiment.

“While I may not have professional experience yet, I”ve dedicated my academic career to studying psychology and special education. Throughout my coursework, I”ve gained a deep understanding of child development, behavior management, and evidence-based interventions for children with diverse needs.”

“Evie, what are you doing–”

Before I could reply, Mr. Thorne interrupted Father. “Leave her, James.” I took his pointed look as a sign to continue.

“I graduated as the top student in my class. My passion and tenacity have brought me this far; what makes you think it wouldn”t take me farther?”

When I noticed the slight clench in his jaw, I almost faltered. Almost.

“You can’t—” Mr. Thorne started but I wasn”t finished.

“You do not know the extent of my abilities, so don”t let it be limited by sentiment.”

Father gasped. I continued.

“A while ago you mentioned trying to gather brilliant students from the university to your company in the form of internships. They have no experience, yet you want them.” I took a moment to catch my breath and assess his reaction.

The clench in his jaw had disappeared and his expression was back to what I now knew as usual. Deadpan.

“Mr. Thorne, you can recognize talent when you see one. You also know better than to let emotions cloud logic. I know Sophie, at the very least, and believe I would be the best fit for her.”

My heart was beating at an incredibly fast pace as I held the weight of his stare. I didn’t know if I did anything wrong or said what I shouldn”t have but there was no going back now.

“Oh dear.” Father”s voice turned frail. “Evie, you should have let me handle—”

“You have the job.”

“What?” While my exclamation was internal, Dad’s was loud and laced with shock.

Without deterring his gaze from me, Mr. Thorne spoke again.

“Evie has the job. We leave for New York first thing in the morning.”