Chapter 6: Seed of Doubt

Annalyn’s Point Of View

It was cool outside when we arrived at Nolan’s school early that morning. The city was only just waking up, but the little hands holding mine buzzed with excitement. I exited first before assisting Nolan out of his car seat. His eyes smiled up at me with that very same radiant smile that could melt irritation like sugar dissolving hot tea.

“You good to go, sweetheart?” I asked, kneeling to his eye level.

He nodded eagerly, then wrapped his arms around my neck and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Love you, mummy!”

There it was again.. that word.

I swallowed and smiled, brushing his hair gently. “I’ll be right here when school’s out, okay?”

He nodded and bounded off toward the gate, waving. I waved back, but my smile wavered as soon as his little form disappeared behind the school doors.

I turned and made my way to the designated waiting area for nannies and guardians, trying not to let the word echo in my head.

“Mummy.” But it did linger in my head rent free.

It didn’t make sense. Nolan was smart—frighteningly so for a three-year-old. He could clearlytell a fox from a wolf, and knew the alphabet backward. So why did he keep calling me his mother?

Was it just his way of grief management?

I greeted the other nannies with polite smiles and settled into a plastic bench that overlooked the schoolyard. Chatter buzzed around me, I could hear them whisper recipes, jokes about their husbands, employee gossips and all what not but I barely registered any of it. My mind kept cycling back to Nolan. To the way his face lit up when he saw me That day at the parlour. To the sadness that occasionally flickered in his eyes when he thought no one was watching.

Was it possible that I looked that much like his mother, enough to confuse him? Or was there something no one was telling me?

The bell rang hours later, dragging me out of my spiral. I stood up just in time to catch Nolan as he came racing toward me, his backpack bouncing with each step.

“Mummy!” he squealed, arms wide.

“Hey, sweetheart.” I caught him and lifted him into a quick spin. “How was school?”

“It was soooo fun! I made a fwog from green paper and then we sang rhythms and then I got two star stickers because I listened all day and got high scores in out class assessment!”

He launched into a breathless mood recounting of every minute of his day as we walked to the car. I listened with half a heart, smiling, nodding, inserting the occasional “Wow!” or “Really?” but my thoughts continued to fester quietly.

Halfway home, he drifted off mid-sentence, his head drooping to the side. I looked at him and exhaled slowly. He looked peaceful, angelic even. It hurt that this boy had experienced such profound loss. But what hurt more was the growing suspicion that no one around him was telling the full story.

Back at the mansion, I laid him gently on his bed, changed him out of his school wear and pulled the covers over him. I paused, brushing a stray curl from his forehead.

“I’ll figure this out, little one. I promise.”

Once I was sure he was asleep, I left his room and made my way down to the kitchen, hoping to bump into Nanny Flora. Sure enough, she was there, arranging lunch items with an elegance that only years of practice could bring.

“Good afternoon Nanny Flora,” I greeted softly.

She smiled without turning. “He fell asleep on your way home, didn’t he?”

“Out like a light.” I laughed a little

I lingered, unsure how to broach the subject. Finally, I said, “Nanny Flora, can I ask you something?”

She glanced at me briefly. “Of course my child.”

“It’s about Nolan. He keeps calling me… mummy. I know he misses his mom, but he’s so smart. He must know I’m not her, so why…”

“I’m sure it’s just a coping mechanism,” she said quickly, too quickly, as she stirred the soup. “Children often latch onto things when they’re grieving.”

“But…”

Flora suddenly patted her apron and exclaimed, “Oh! I think I left my phone upstairs. it must be ringing”

She didn’t even hear any phone sound, I knew it was her way of escaping my questions.

“I’ll be back in a moment,” she said and vanished before I could press further.

I stood there for a while, alone with the simmering stew and the simmering questions in my head.

Was I going crazy, or was she intentionally hiding something?

I wandered toward the staff wing, hoping to pick up more clues, anything to make sense of the growing unease in my chest. As I approached, hushed voices drifted through the slightly ajar door to the laundry room.

“I pity Mr. Gray,” one of the maids whispered. “It mustn’t be easy on him seeing her walk around the house so casually…””

“Eliza!” another hissed, nudging her sharply.

They all went silent as their eyes turned towards the door, I took that as my cue to step inside. The room was full of startled eyes and false smiles.

“Oh, Annalyn,” one of the oldest ones said too sweetly, folding a towel she’d already folded. “Did you need something?”

“No,” I replied, staring at them. “Just checking out the mansions.”

They dispersed faster than ants after boiling water.

I turned to leave, but barely made it two steps before I collided into someone.

“Watch it, you filthy servant!”

It was Vanessa.

Her eyes flashed with superiority as she took a step back, arms folded across her designer blouse. “Shouldn’t you be watching where you are going? What if you had put those dirty hands of yours on my silk.”

“I’m sorry,” I muttered, forcing calm.

She arched an eyebrow. “Sorry? You should be. What are you even doing down here, after all. What are you again? A glorified babysitter? A nanny? Or just Alex’s recent charity case?”

I clenched my jaw and turned to walk away.

“Oh I get it, you felt too bored that you came down to help the cleaners do the job your mother must have done all her life”

That was it.

I turned around and shoved her, not hard, but firm enough to stop her prancing. “Don’t you ever talk about my mother again, you know nothing about me so don’t fucking assume,” I snapped, my voice low and shaking with fury.

Vanessa’s eyes widened. Then narrowed.”How dare you…” she raised her hand.

But I caught her wrist midair.

The room fell into a silence so thick it rang in my ears.

I stared into her eyes, holding her wrist with a quiet warning. “Try that again,” I said, “and you’ll regret it.”

Then, like a switch had flipped, her expression crumbled. She let out a sob, one so loud and theatrical and dropped to the floor, crying as if I’d slapped her.

I was still standing there in shock when I heard his voice.

“Annalyn!”

Alex’s voice. Furious. Close.

My blood turned to ice.

And just like that, I knew… whatever happened next, I was going to be the villain in his eyes.