My name is Clara, and I’ve been working as a live-in nanny for the Harrington family for almost eleven months now. The pay is ridiculous, the house is massive, and most days the job is easy. Mr. and Mrs. Harrington travel constantly for business, so I basically run the household and look after their youngest — nine-year-old Ben. Their older daughter, Ava, newly eighteen and home from boarding school for the summer. She’s the reason everything changed. Ava is trouble wrapped in designer clothes. Tall, long chestnut hair with natural highlights, sharp green eyes, and a body that she knows exactly how to use. She’s been different with me lately. Lingering stares, little touches that last too long, comments that feel loaded. I told myself I was imagining it. I’m twenty-seven, straight (mostly), and her employee. Crossing that line would be career suicide. But tonight the parents were gone for a long weekend in Aspen, Ben was at a sleepover, and the house felt dangerously empty. I was
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