Nanny To My highschool Nemesis のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 51 - チャプター 60

Brooklyn's POV"I don't know what anyone is talking about," I said.Jordan looked at me for a long moment. Then he looked at Savannah. Then at the room full of people who were all very invested in what happened next."Can I talk to you?" he said to me. Just me, like no one else was there."Jordan — ""Outside." He tilted his head toward the door. "Two minutes."Savannah opened her mouth."Not you," Jordan said without looking at her.I picked up my bag and followed him out before Savannah could recover.---He found a quiet spot in the corridor beside the language block, far enough from any classroom door that sound wouldn't carry. He stopped and turned to face me and crossed his arms and looked at me with an expression that was genuinely trying to be neutral and not quite making it."Talk to me," he said."There's nothing to talk about.""Brooklyn." His eyes moved to the scarf. "I've seen hickeys before. I know what they look like.""It's not a hickey.""Then what is it?"I adjusted

Brooklyn's POVThe ride dropped us at the gate just after six.Daisy had ice cream on her sleeve and a drawing she had done on a napkin tucked carefully into her pocket and she was in the particular good mood that only sugar and an afternoon out could produce. She held my hand as we came through the gate and swung it once before letting go to run up the front steps.I was still smiling at her when the door opened from the inside.Emerson.He was standing in the doorway looking past Daisy and directly at me with an expression that stopped my smile where it was."Inside," he said to Daisy.Daisy looked up at him and immediately launched into something — her hands moving quickly, gesturing toward me, toward the phone in my bag, trying to explain something with the urgency of someone who knew they were about to be blamed for something that wasn't their fault."Inside, Daisy." His voice was quiet but final.She stopped. Looked at me with wide eyes.I gave her a small nod. It's okay. Go.Sh

Brooklyn's POVI stayed in my room.I changed out of my school clothes, sat at my desk, opened my textbook, and stared at it for forty minutes without reading a single word. My bag was on the floor by the door. The scarf was on the back of my chair. Outside my window the evening was doing its usual thing of going golden and then grey and I watched it happen without really seeing it.The pool kept coming back to me. The edge of it. The water right there. His hand on my arm and then the immediate grip of a fear that went so much deeper than one bad night in someone's garden.I had been afraid of water since I was nine years old.A holiday. A lake. A moment of not paying attention and then nothing but green water closing over my head and the specific silence of being underwater and completely alone and not knowing which way was up.My mother had pulled me out.Nobody else had ever known about it. Not really. Not in the way Emerson had just seen it — stripped back and unmanaged and comple

Brooklyn's POV"Give that back." I reached across for it.Sawyer pulled it further away, turning it over in her hands, reading the outside of it. "There's no name on it.""Sawyer — ""So either you bought yourself a gift box which would be very on brand for you, or someone gave it to you and you've been carrying it around all day without opening it which is — ""Give it — "A hand came from the row behind us and plucked it clean out of Sawyer's grip before either of us could react.We both turned.Savannah was standing two desks back with the box between two fingers, holding it the way you hold something you've already decided belongs to you. Chloe was at her shoulder, already smiling."Ooh." Savannah turned it over. "What have we here.""Savannah." My voice came out flat. "That's mine. Give it back.""Is it?" She looked at the box with exaggerated curiosity. "No name on the outside." She looked up at me. "How do we know it's yours?""Because it came out of my bag.""Lots of things co

Brooklyn's POVThe penthouse was quiet when I let myself in.Too quiet in a different way from usual. The usual quiet of the house had Emerson in it somewhere — footsteps above me or music through a closed door or the particular energy of someone existing in adjacent rooms. This quiet had none of that.I stood in the hallway and listened.Nothing.Patrick appeared from the direction of his study, jacket on, phone in hand, looking like a man with somewhere to be. He saw me and stopped."Brooklyn.""Mr. Weston." I set my bag down. "Is everything — where's Emerson?"Patrick looked at me for a moment. "He won't be home for the next few days."I stared at him. "A few days?""Three." He slipped his phone into his pocket. "He has something to attend to.""What kind of something?""Something important." His voice was final in the way it got when a subject was closing. "Daisy's had her dinner. She's in her room." He picked up his own bag from the hook by the door. "I'll be back Thursday.""Mr.