He stepped aside to let her through. “Grace left a folder in the kitchen. Everything she told you is written down in it. The schedule, the shopping list, the house rules. Read it today when you have time.”
He was already turning back toward the house as he spoke.
“Coffee is in the third cabinet on the left. The kettle is already filled.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I take my breakfast at 7:30.” He glanced back once. “Not 7:25. Not 7:40. 7:30.”
“7:30,” Rebecca said.
He nodded and went inside.
Rebecca stood in the garden for just a moment, looking up at the big white house in the early morning light. She breathed in slowly through her nose.
All right, she thought. Let’s begin.
The first day was about learning.
She moved through the house quietly and carefully, the way you move in a place that is not yet yours, touching only what needed to be touched, opening only what needed to be opened. She read Grace’s folder at the kitchen table while the kettle heated. It was 3 pages of neat handwriting, organized exactly the way the kitchen cabinets were organized, everything in its right place.