Ms. Lauren Mitchell had impeccable credentials and glowing references. Had she simply abandoned her post?
The thought ignited his anger.
He gently touched Margaret’s shoulder. She woke abruptly, panic flooding her eyes.
“Mr. Reed—I’m so sorry, sir. I shouldn’t be here,” she stammered.
“Margaret, it’s all right. Where is Lauren?”
Margaret twisted the edge of her apron nervously. “She called a few hours ago, sir. Said she wasn’t feeling well and couldn’t come tonight.”
“And she left the children alone?” His voice tightened.
“I tried calling you, but your phone was off. She said she’d find a replacement in the morning.”
Jonathan felt fury rising—but beneath it, something heavier.
“And you stayed?”
“Yes, sir. I couldn’t leave them. They’re so little… What if they woke up and no one was here?” Her voice trembled. “I know it’s not my job. I fell asleep. I understand if you fire me.”
Fire her?
For protecting his children?
He studied her properly for the first time in twelve years—the years she had quietly maintained his mansion.
“Twelve years,” she confirmed softly when he asked. “Since you moved in.”
Twelve years of invisible loyalty.
“Margaret, tell me the truth. Has this happened before?”