Nanny To My highschool Nemesis のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

Brooklyn's POVPatrick had been on his way out the door that morning when I caught him."I wanted to ask if I could visit my mother this weekend." I kept it simple and direct because that was the only language Patrick Weston responded to. "I'd be back Saturday night. Before Daisy's bedtime."He paused with his travel bag over one shoulder and looked at me the way he looked at most things — like he was running a quick calculation behind his eyes."It's the weekend," he said slowly."I know. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important."Another pause. Longer. He glanced toward the stairs briefly and then back at me."Saturday night," he said. "Not Sunday. Not late Saturday. Saturday night, in time for Daisy.""Absolutely."He picked up his keys. "Make sure she eats properly while I'm gone." He was already moving toward the door. "And Brooklyn — " he paused without turning around — "be back when you said you'll be back.""I will."The door closed behind him.I let out a slow breath and went up

Brooklyn's POVThe silence stretched on.Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. Savannah's eyes were fixed on the ground in front of her and Chloe had taken a very deliberate step sideways as though increasing the distance between them would somehow reduce her involvement.Emerson looked at the crowd for one more second.Then he made his decision."Party's over." He said it the way his father said things — not loud, not negotiable. "Everyone out. Now."A ripple went through the crowd. People looked at each other."Emerson." Jordan stepped forward from the side, voice low. "Come on, man. You don't have to — ""Jordan." Emerson didn't look at him. "I said everyone.""It's just a party — ""Get them out." Final. Absolute.Jordan looked at him for a moment, read whatever was on his face, and turned to the crowd. "Alright." He raised his voice. "You heard him. Grab your stuff and head out. Let's go."It happened faster than I expected. People moved — collecting cups, finding jackets, filtering toward

Brooklyn's POV"Daisy." Emerson's voice carried down the hallway sharp and urgent. "Daisy, answer me."Nothing.We moved fast. I took the bathroom and the small reading room while he checked the guest rooms. I came out shaking my head and he was already moving to the next door, opening it, scanning the inside, moving on. His face was doing something I had never seen before — stripped of everything he usually kept there. No control, no distance, no carefully managed expression. Just raw and open and desperate in a way that made him look younger and much more human than I knew what to do with."Daisy!" He was louder now, not caring who heard."Emerson." I kept my voice steady because one of us had to. "She's in the house. The gate was closed when we came in. She didn't leave.""Then where — ""We haven't checked downstairs properly." I was already heading for the stairs. "Come on."We went through the kitchen, the living room, the dining room. He called her name in each one and each one

Emerson's POV"It's bedtime," she said.And she walked away.Just like that. Down the hallway, into her room, door closed. No answer. No reaction. Nothing I could hold onto or argue with or read into. Just two words and a closed door and me standing alone in the hallway feeling like an idiot.I stood there for another full minute before I went to my room.I didn't sleep well.---I was up before six.I didn't check whether Brooklyn was awake. I didn't go near the kitchen or the hallway outside her door. I grabbed my bag, checked on Daisy who was still deeply asleep, and left the house before anyone else was moving.The school car park was almost completely empty when I pulled in. A few teachers' cars near the staff entrance and nothing else. I sat in the car for a while and then gave up on that and went inside.The dressing room was unlocked and empty. I dropped my bag on the bench and sat there in the quiet with my elbows on my knees and the kind of silence that doesn't help with any

Brooklyn's POVI walked further onto the court until I was standing directly in front of him."Talk to me," I said.Nothing.He was bouncing the ball again. Slow and rhythmic, looking at the ground, giving me the side of his face and nothing else. Like I hadn't spoken at all."Emerson."Bounce. Catch. Bounce. Catch."The fight this morning." I stepped slightly to the side so I was harder to ignore. "What started it?"Bounce."Was it about last night? About what you said in the hallway?"Catch."Because if you're taking whatever this is out on Jordan — ""I don't have a problem." He caught the ball and held it and finally looked at me. Direct and flat. "I'm fine.""You're clearly not fine.""I said I'm fine, Brooklyn." His voice wasn't angry. It was the other thing — the closed, sealed version of him that he pulled out when something was too close to the surface. "Leave it."I looked at him standing there with the ball under one arm and his jaw set and his eyes doing that thing where t