4. Evie

four

“Dad, I”m okay, I promise.” I sank my head further into the pillow.

“Do you like the room you”re in? How are the maids treating you? Are they friendly?”

“Dad, I”m not a kid.” I groaned.

“I know, but still,” he whined.

I always found it funny when Dad whined. It was cute, and the fact that his call was the first thing I woke up to at five o’clock in the morning was even cuter. Though he”d called yesterday to check up on me, maybe I didn”t expect another call today. Not especially him asking me stuff like I was five.

“They”re all friendly and nice, Dad.” I smiled slightly.

“Are you sure? You know you can tell me any–”

“Dad.” My voice was an octave higher. That was the only way I could get him to listen to me. “I”m fine, I promise.”

I really was fine. Although I think his main question should be how his friend was treating me. But I guess he had so much trust in his friend he assumed he was treating me right.

But wasn”t he treating me right?

Perhaps he was a little harsh on the plane, but he”s fair… professional, just how he should be. And I should be the same way.

“Okay, dear. I have a few jobs to finish up this morning. I”ll talk to you later?” His voice was cheery, but I couldn”t help the sadness that filled my heart.

He was forty-two, but due to the hardships he’d faced, his body was much older than it should be. He was getting unfit for his carpentry thingy. If things were right, he would have had his own workers doing those jobs for him.

“I miss you, Dad.” I sighed. “I miss you, and I want to make you proud. I want to finally be able to reward your efforts.”

“Oh silly, why do you think I called this early?” His scoff tugged the end of my lips. “I miss you too, and I love you.”

“I love you too, Dad. Talk to you later.”

I ended the call and tossed my phone somewhere on the bed. Okay, maybe not toss because I wasn”t sure I could afford a new one yet.

After gently placing it somewhere beside my body, I brought my hand underneath my head.

This was my chance to help Dad. My chance to make Mom proud, and I wouldn”t fuck it up. Not because of one night.

I didn”t know how long I stared at the chandelier, but once my alarm for 6 a.m. rang, I knew it was time to get prepared.

Alicia had informed me of Sophie’s daily routine.

She wakes around 7 a.m. and even if she wakes before that time, I”m only allowed to visit at 7. So, her day starts at 7, after which I’d help with her morning routine of bathing, brushing her hair and other necessary stuff. Then she has breakfast.

After breakfast, she could watch cartoons if she felt like it, or play with her usual toys. Sometimes she might decide to just stare at the clock.

During the afternoon hours, after lunch, she reads or stares at her picture storybook and then proceeds to coloring her color book. Some other educational activities would also take place.

If she wants a snack at any time, she’ll signal or just say ‘snack’. The same applied if she wanted anything else.

In the evening, she had dinner and then went to bed between 6 and 8 p.m. The next day, the cycle repeated itself exactly in the same manner.

The only exception was when her father decided to take her to the park. Oh, and also, no unnecessary physical contact.

As I undressed, I began to wonder what exactly she witnessed for her to be this way. It happened when she was three, so it must have been something tragic— something big enough to traumatize a three-year-old. But what?

Indeed, just like Dad said I could ask Mr. Thorne himself, but… ugh. That’d mean I had to face him. I should. I mean, I would anyway.

Professionally, observation and in-depth conversation with Sophie’s family would be the first step towards assessing her strengths, challenges, and specific needs. So, the conversation with Mr. Thorne was inevitable.

But first, I needed to have my bath.

The bathroom was huge when I stepped inside. It was like our entire living room in Minnesota, which wasn”t really large by any means.

Everything from the walls, shower, faucet, taps, and even the bathtub were made of gold. The accessories seemed to be even shinier than they were yesterday. And they reminded me of the fact that this man was loaded.

Really loaded. I mean, a golden bathroom?

Once I reminded myself that I had a target to hit, I stopped gawking and turned in the shower.

A small sigh escaped my lips as the warm water caressed my skin. From my hair, the warm liquid rolled down my back, my chest, and every other part of my body.

I knew it was probably all in my head but even the water running out of this gold shower felt different— soothing.

As it continued to drench my scalp and flow, I couldn”t help but relax my shoulders. Only now did I realize how tense I was.

Releasing a small sigh, I settled on basking in the caress of the water. This…magic water eased my nerves and calmed my mind. I knew all water, regardless of its source, did this, but… today would be great.

I exited the bathroom once I was done and threw on the most colorful, casual dress I had. Shiny colors were a sure way to attract kids. So perhaps this dress had automatically reduced the chance of Sophie not liking me? Maybe not.

After pulling my hair into a sleek bun, I quickly glanced at the clock on the wall. It was four minutes to 7. Whew.

Bringing my eyes to the mirror, I smiled at my reflection. When I saw that my smile seemed too wide, I narrowed it. No, this was even worse. I looked like the Grinch.

Breathe, Evie.

Just then my heart picked that exact moment to start racing. Ugh. This was my first professional job, and I needed composure.

Perhaps the clock could help.

Almost immediately, I turned to the clock, counting the seconds backwards in my head. It took a few seconds, literally and figuratively, for my heartbeat to be steady.

When it was one minute to seven, I strapped my watch to my wrist. Then walked to the door. With a deep breath, I pushed it open and walked out.

Since Sophie”s room was still in the east wing and just two rooms from mine, I took my time to walk.

She must begin her day at exactly seven o’clock.

When I reached her door, I raised my hand to knock before I quickly halted myself. Instead, I replaced my hand with my ear and gently pressed it against the door.

She could have routines only she knew, but if I knew it too, it could form a common ground that may foster our interaction.

I heard nothing at first, but just as I moved to knock, I heard movements.

Hmm, perhaps she went to use the bathroom? I didn”t have much time to think about it when the movement stopped a couple of seconds later. Then I knocked.

Instantly, I realized Alicia didn”t detail this part. Should I wait for a response or for her to open the door? Almost immediately, the door opened. There she was, clothed in a pink nightgown.

Blue eyes stared blankly at me before I smiled. “Good morning, Sophie. It”s Evie, your new nanny.”

The thick silence that fell after made me think there was something wrong with my smile? Words?

Of course not. She wouldn”t respond if she didn”t feel like it. I opened my mouth to say something else when she turned her back and walked back to her bed. The door was still wide open, so it wasn”t a no.

I entered. Her room was like any five-year-old’s. Any rich five-year-old’s. Colorful, big, filled with a lot of toys and shiny girly stuff.

“Your room is beautiful,” I smiled at her. I wasn”t lying. The beautiful blend of deep pink and fuchsia screamed Barbie.

Still, her response was her knee tucked closely to her chest and the lower half of her face tucked between them. She was shy.

I continued. “I love the way your bed blends with your closet.” The bed was deep pink, and the closet at the right corner of the room was too. It blended perfectly with the fuchsia-colored rug and wall.

I watched her eyes briefly move to the closet before she settled them on me — my dress. I smiled. My best guess was she liked my dress too.

Slowly I inched closer toward the bed. “Do you think my dress is nice?”

Again, her head tucked even more between her knee and chest was my only response. At least it wasn”t total silence, I could read her emotions.

Still with a smile, I spoke softly. “It”s alright, Sophie. Let”s get you ready for your bath.”

Slowly she stood up. Then walked towards me. The urge to hold her was strong, but no unnecessary physical contact. I couldn”t forget.

She reached me and I started to help her undress. Truthfully, it was a bit weird interacting with a child who didn”t reciprocate the interaction. This interaction right now was a bit weird, but I knew it would take some time to get used to it.

Thankfully, her body wasn”t stiff, which meant she wasn”t uncomfortable. Another good thing.

After undressing her, I found her pink towel in the closet, then wrapped it around her body before leading her to the bathroom.

I briefly thought of commenting on how I thought pink was her favorite color but decided against it. I had to give her a break.

Too much talk could pressure her into retracting into her shell. I didn”t want that.

Slowly, I filled the pink bathtub, applied her lavender bodywash and made sure the warm water was the right temperature before urging her inside.

I noticed how her eyes seemed to be fixed on my dress as I found the soft, pink loafer. She must like colors very much.

After a few minutes, I was done with her bath and her hair. Then I proceeded to clothes.

“What color of clothes would you like to wear, Sophie?” I asked softly. When I didn”t get a response, I knew I had to choose.

Her closet was filled with clothes of different colors, but I picked out a casual pink dress for her.

“I”ll help you put this on now, Sophie.”

She said nothing but stared at me as I helped her with the dress. I packed her hair into a pigtail after, and she was ready for breakfast.

“It”s time for your breakfast now, Sophie.” She paused and stared at me for a while. A really long while. When I thought the staring contest was enough, I lowered myself to her height.

“Do you want something?”

I briefly wondered if I”d missed any step, but I didn”t think s—

Before I could complete my thoughts, she turned away. I watched her walk until she stopped in front of the mirror.

Oh…

She glanced at her reflection– the dress— before walking back to me. “Did you like your dress, Sophie?”

I couldn”t exactly see her emotions. Her eyes remained blank, her body language no different. It was difficult to say how she felt about the dress. Before I could ask again, she turned to the door, opened it and walked out.

Okay…

The wheels spun in my head as I rushed to catch up with her. Did she not like it? If she didn”t, she’d have said so, right?

Again, I was tempted to hold her hands as she climbed down the stairs, but her slow pace was my only solace. She couldn”t fall.

Wait, she was old enough to climb the stairs herself, right?

I didn”t have time to answer when a voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Good morning, ma”am. How was your night?” I cringed a bit at the title. I was nowhere near a ma’am’s status.

“Virginia, please, I”ve told you, call me Evie.”

I narrowed my eyes at the tinge of red that stained her cheeks. Was she embarrassed?

“Evie.” She smiled. I returned her smile with a warm one.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Sophie brush past Virginia to the dining room.

Oh, it seemed like she didn”t like her time being wasted? Or did she like to do everything according to routine?

I quickly glanced at my wristwatch. It was a quarter to eight.

“Oh, little Miss likes to eat on time.” Virginia chuckled awkwardly before turning in the direction of the dining area.

“Did she ever say that?” It seemed like a weird question, but I had my reasons.

“Say what?”

“That she likes to eat on time?”

“Oh no,” she shook her head. “Sophie rarely speaks, not especially to us but once her food wasn”t served on time and she got angry.”

My brows raised at this. “Angry?”

She sighed, slowing her pace. “Even though she has… issues, she”s still a child. And children throw tantrums.”

“How exactly did she get angry?”

“She frowns.”

I didn”t know what I was expecting but not that. “Is frowning not a common thing?”

“I wish it was,” she sighed. “Sophie rarely smiles or frowns or laughs. She... she just does her own thing.”

Virginia sounded hurt. Like she”s been around to witness that for long.

“How long have you been here?”

“Four years.”

Wow.

“I watched her grow up.” She finally stopped just before we reached the dining area. “I knew her before… before the incident. It hurts to watch her this way.”

“… I’ve watched many like you come, nannies and therapists alike, but none of them have been able to achieve anything.”

She breathed and stretched her head to the dining area as if to search for something. I furrowed my brows when she faced me.

“Many had different things to say,” her voice reduced to a whisper. “Some therapists said there was no hope for her while some nannies quit because, according to them, they were losing themselves caring for a silent child.”

I frowned. Those were mean statements. Mean and unnecessary.

“Some even went as far as saying she was possessed.”

An involuntary gasp escaped my lips. Virginia quickly placed a finger on her lips. “Shhh.”

“But what happened. What exactly did she witness?”

She raised a tentative brow at me. “You don”t know?”

If I knew, would I be asking?

“No.” I shook my head.

I watched the wheels turn in her head. Like she was contemplating telling me. Tension settled in the air as I anticipated her reply. “Then you need to ask Mr. Thorne.”

“Why can”t y—”

“Virginia!” The heavily accented voice sliced the tension in the air. Disappointment shrouded my heart as Virginia quickly dashed in the direction of the voice. Fuck.

Why now?

I entered the dining area to see Sophie eating silently and Joseph standing at a distance, watching her.

“Aren”t you supposed to be her nanny? Where were you? Should the little girl be eating without somebody watching her? What if she hurts herself?”

Irritation filled me at his commanding tone. First of all, he wasn”t my fucking boss, and second, the girl had selective mutism, not mental issues.

“It”s highly unlikely for her to… hurt herself.” I shot him a tight-lipped smile.

He frowned, shooting daggers through his eyes but I met contact with a hard stare of mine. It looked like he wanted to say something but decided against it. Then turned to Virginia. “And Virginia, the kitchen is messy. Do what you have to do.”

Another wave of irritation hit me when Virginia scampered from her position to the kitchen. Wasn’t he the chef? Wasn”t that his job? To cook and clean after his own damn self?

Pushing my rising anger to a corner, I took a seat beside Sophie.

My food was also dished. I didn”t care to know by whom as I picked up a thick slice of the French toast. It was paired with a glass of orange juice. Today would be great.

Slowly, time rolled by and I watched Sophie until she was done eating. I watched her until she completed her routine and it was time for bed. Just as we exited her playroom, I stumbled into Joseph… and his plates.

“The boss’s food!” he shrieked. “Why didn”t you watch where you”re going?”

I looked down at my dress to find sauce dripping down my chest.

Breathe, Evie.

This bastard looked like he did it on purpose. Maybe payback for talking back at him during breakfast.

Sophie was the first person that came to mind. If I gave Joseph a piece of my mind, it would be bad for her to witness it. Clenching my fist, I stormed out of the scene then searched for Virginia.

After asking her to look after Sophie, I quickly went to my room to change my stained dress.

Rude, bossy, obnoxious, Joseph was becoming everything I hated. One day, just one day, I”ll give Joseph a piece of my mind. But not today.

I found my nightwear— a singlet and shorts– and quickly shrugged it on, replacing the stained dress with it before heading back out.

Sophie was still in the same spot I told Virginia to watch her. I muttered a quick thanks to her, then urged Sophie up the stairs and to her room.

Repeating the same routine of bathing and dressing her for bed, the dynamics remained the same. Me talking and her not responding.

In the afternoon, we did a bit of arts and crafts. Cutting, gluing, and building basic shapes. And I read her a book. Then the night appeared, and it was bedtime.

I didn”t know if I was supposed to leave her to fall asleep or stay. I decided to ask.

“Do you want me to stay until you fall asleep, Sophie?” My voice was barely a whisper, but she heard. I knew that because she glanced at me, tucked her palm underneath her cheek, then shut her eyes.

Oddly, the action warmed my heart. It could have meant anything, but to me, it meant she felt safe in my presence.

Adoration slowly bloomed in my heart as I watched her long lashes flutter slightly. It was sad that this innocent girl had to live this way.

Sadly, from today’s routine, all I could deduce was she was a shadow of her former self. A stark contrast from the vibrant one-year-old I used to know.

It was sad that her education and social life had to be put temporarily on hold because of her predicament.

It was sad that she had to go through this at such an early stage. But it wouldn”t be for long. I was optimistic that all this would come to an end soon.

Don”t worry, Sophie, I”ll help you. You”ll become the young, vibr—

The sound of the door slowly peeling open interrupted my thoughts. And to my surprise, Mr. Thorne appeared. My heart instantly picked up a harsh pace.

The soft sound of his shoes resounded through the room as he walked. It wasn”t exactly a walk. It was somewhere between tiptoeing and walking. And it was a hilarious sight.

If Sophie wasn”t asleep, I”d have burst into laughter. The smell of his cologne hit me as he ignored my existence and moved to his daughter. My heart dropped. I knew why he was doing this, but that didn”t mean it didn”t hurt.

I watched as disappointment flashed through his orbs when he realized she was already asleep. Interesting. Did he leave the office early just to say goodnight to Sophie? Was this his normal closing hour?

He continued to watch her sleeping frame while I took the opportunity to assess him… as my client’s father, of course.

His shoulders were slouched, a big contrast to how high they were when I”d met him at the club. His hair was messy, an indication that he”d run his hands through it a couple of times. I briefly wondered why? Habit? Frustration? Stress?

I moved my eyes from his appearance to his chest and for the second time tonight, my heart sank. The slowed, deep rise and fall of his chest depicted worry. He was worried for his daughter.

He caught me off guard when he turned to me. His jaw was now set in a firm clench. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

What would he say now?

“Why are you here?”

You”ve got to be kidding me.

“I”m her nanny, sir.” I kept my cool. It felt nice to have bragging rights. But as he looked at me, I felt myself losing my cool.

A slight shiver ran down my spine when he glanced at my feet, then slowly brought his eyes till they settled on my face. I was suddenly aware of my nighties and how thin they were.

“I”m aware.”

I ignored the flutter in my stomach at his voice. It sounded even deeper… groggier. It was the type of voice that made you melt.

“She”s asleep, Ms. Norman, why are you still here?”

The same reason you’re here. The response was heavy on the tip of my tongue. But for professionalism, I settled on explaining myself. “I was just pu—”

“Your unnecessary explanation is going to wake my daughter,” he deadpanned. I frowned.

His jaw clenched as he gestured for me to leave the room. I obliged. I almost tripped on my foot from the heat of his stare as he followed me. I was in front of him but I just knew his eyes were on something else. I could feel it.

When Sophie’s door was shut, he started. “I hired you to—”

“What happened to her?” I quickly interrupted. I wasn”t ready for any more bullshit tonight. More like I needed to rush to my room, staying in his presence was becoming bothering.

The frown that tilted his lips told me he didn”t like being interrupted. “I didn”t hire you to become a bother to my daughter. She needs her breathing space. Your job is to take care of her when she actively needs you.” His eyes fell to my chest, then my thighs. “And be properly dressed while at it.”

I released a subtle breath. Any other thing I felt now disappeared, leaving irritation. “Noted, sir.”

My words hung in the air as he stared at me. This time, his stare was different. Unlike the others, it wasn”t condescending or blank. It was curious, as though searching for something.

“Her mother’s death.”

“Uh?”

“Sophie witnessed her mother fall to her death.”