Chapter 2 - The Confession in the Hallway
Jo stood frozen, Theo heavy and warm against her shoulder, while Milo clutched the hem of her gray uniform. Her hair, usually pinned into a severe corporate bun, had come loose, falling in soft waves around her neck. She looked younger than her twenty-eight years, worn down by life yet strangely luminous in the dim corridor light.
"Mr. Cole," she murmured, her voice barely a breath so as not to wake the children. "I didn't mean to fall asleep. The fever broke around three. When Milo stopped shivering, I just... sat down to steady my legs. I didn't think I'd drift."
Nathaniel stared at her, his mind searching for the cold corporate authority that usually kept his household running like a Swiss watch. "Fever?" he echoed, his voice rough from disuse. "The agency didn't mention anything about a fever. Dr. Vance cleared them on Tuesday."
"Dr. Vance looks at charts, sir. He doesn't look at eyes," Jo replied softly, adjusting Theo's head. "Milo hasn't slept more than two hours straight since the funeral. Not because of a cold. Because every time he closes his eyes, he hears the glass breaking. I stayed because... well, someone had to show them the dark isn't empty."
Nathaniel felt a cold spike of defensive pride. "I pay five thousand a week to the Sterling Agency for professional caregivers. They are certified in pediatric psychology."
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"And they wear uniforms that smell like dry cleaning and bleach, Mr. Cole," Jo said without a trace of insolence, only a profound, heartbreaking exhaustion. "Children don't need psychology. They need someone whose hands don't shake when they cry. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get them downstairs for broth before they wake up hungry."
She walked past him, her bare foot silent against the imported Persian runner. Nathaniel stood in the hallway, his fingers twitching against his thighs. For the first time in fourteen months, he didn't go back to his study. He followed them down.
