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KIERANThe pills always left a film on my tongue.Bitter, chalky and clinging. I could still taste it when I ran my teeth over the back of my mouth. I remembered the doctors saying something about how the bitterness meant they were working, but I knew better, it meant they were still in me. Still eating at the edges of what was left of my thoughts.I sat up slowly, pressing a hand to my face. The room smelled like sugar and plastic—blocks, stuffed animals, and those stupid colors that screamed for attention in the dark. Toys everywhere like a fucking child’s room. They thought it helped me. Grounding, Lilian called it. But it wasn’t grounding. It was drowning.I swung my legs off the bed, the marble floor cold under my feet. For a second, the world tilted sideways and nausea hit hard. I should’ve spat the pill out earlier. Should’ve shoved it under my tongue until I could hide it. But I’d been tired. Tired and slow and didn’t even know why I would want to do that.That’s how they want
EZRAMorning came too fast.I’d barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I swore I could hear something moving outside my door—soft steps, a floorboard creaking, a faint hum that could’ve been the wind but didn’t feel like the wind. When the sun finally bled through the curtains, I sat up on the bed with a groan, my bones already heavy.“Day two,” I muttered, dragging a hand down my face. “Congratulations, Ezra. You’re still alive.”I wanted to laugh at myself, but all I could do was yawn and force myself upright. The contract still burned in my mind, thirty days on that damn electronic lock. Thirty days of babysitting a man who wasn’t really a man but wasn’t a child either. Thirty days for ten thousand dollars.I shuffled to the kitchen, started breakfast like Lilian’s neat little notes told me to. Eggs, toast, fruit. Something simple. My stomach twisted just smelling it, because I knew who I had to take it to.Kieran.When I carried the tray toward his room, I hesitated outside th
EZRAThe first thing I noticed when I woke up was the silence but it wasn’t the good kind, or the peaceful, birds-chirping, Sunday morning kind. This was filed with silence, like someone had pressed their hand over the whole house and told it not to breathe.“Jesus Christ,” I muttered, rubbing my face. My mouth tasted like metal, my back hurt from sleeping wrong, and my stomach was a pit of nerves. For a second I thought about just packing up and leaving—money or not, this wasn’t worth my sanity. But then I remembered Lilian’s face, her voice reminding me about the contract. I’d signed my life away for a paycheck.Dragging myself to the door, I froze.Something was sitting right outside.A tray.Porcelain plate, silver dome, glass of orange juice sweating against a napkin.I groaned under my breath and pushed my hair back. “Okay, creepy hotel service, great.”I picked it up and carried it inside, the metal dome clinking as I lifted it. Eggs. Toast. Sausage. It looked normal… too damn
EZRAI… I didn’t know what to think. Hell, I wasn’t even sure how to feel that the kid I was supposed to take care of was… a grown-ass man.“Do you have any questions, Ezra?” Lilian—that was her name—said, and I jerked, my whole body unable to catch up to reality quick enough.“I…” I trailed off. Was I supposed to ask questions? They would have put it in the ad if they wanted people to know.“Did he scare you?” she asked, her bright eyes, too much like his, stared into me like she was peeling off my layers and staring right into my soul.I laughed, a forced one and gripped the cup of tea she had placed in front of me until my fingers hurt. “No,” I smiled, and lied. Not when I needed this job. “It was just unexpected.”She clapped her hands, the sound sharp and echoing through the massive house.“Good,” she said, nothing more. No explanation for why he acted that way, no reason why I was supposed to care for a man who was no doubt older than me.Then she opened her bag and brought out
EZRA The phone rang loud, ringing through the quiet space of my apartment and I almost didn’t answer. I sat at my small kitchen table, a cup of coffee cooling beside me, my laptop open to the same job listings I’d been scrolling through for weeks. The nanny position was still there. Mocking me. A high-paying job for a private, wealthy family was too good to be true. I had applied on a whim, half as a joke because there was no way in hell they’d pick me. But now my phone was ringing. Unknown number.My fingers hovered over the screen before I pressed accept. “Hello?” “Is this Ezra Kade?” The voice was smooth. Professional. Female. I straightened instinctively. “Yes.” A pause. Then—“You’ve been selected for the live-in nanny position. We expect you by tomorrow evening.” I blinked. Wait, what?No interview? No background check? I had no real experience with kids, just the bare minimum listed on my resume to make me seem somewhat qualified. “This isn’t a mistake, is
KIERAN He was here.I stood by the window, fingers resting against the cold glass, watching as the car crept up the long, winding driveway. It moved too cautiously, hesitating like a mouse wandering straight into a trap.Good. He should be afraid.The driver pulled to a stop near the front steps, but for a moment, nothing happened. The engine hummed. The rain, soft, painted streaks down the windshield, distorting the shadowed figure inside. I already knew what he looked like—I had seen his file, traced my fingers over the photo, memorized the shape of him—but there was something satisfying about watching him sit there, gathering his breath before stepping into my world.Ezra Kade.The nanny.The word almost made me laugh. It was ridiculous, really. A grown man hired to care for a child that didn’t exist.I leaned against the window frame, feeling the cool press of the wood against my skin, and tilted my head. The rain was getting heavier now, darkening the stone steps, soaking the ir







