Five nannies had come and gone. None lasted more than a few months. That very morning, the last one had quit after Noah threw his plate on the floor again. Nathan had left for work overwhelmed, bracing himself for disaster when he returned.
Yet here was Sofia—quiet, reserved, always invisible—playing with his children like she’d known them forever. Nathan stepped closer, careful not to make a sound, afraid to break something fragile and precious. The boys listened to her intently, as if every word mattered.
“One at a time,” she said gently. “You kick, I defend. If it gets past me, you score—but no hurting anyone, okay?”
The boys shouted yes in unison.
Lucas kicked first, sending the ball flying into the bushes. His face fell, but Sofia laughed. “That was powerful! You’ve got serious talent.” He beamed.
Mateo’s kick veered sideways. Sofia pretended to miss it and threw her arms up. “Goal!” He ran in circles celebrating.
Noah kicked with all his strength. The ball landed in Sofia’s lap. She exaggerated a dramatic fall, and the boys erupted in laughter. Nathan felt his eyes sting. He had forgotten that sound.
Sofia brushed grass off her uniform and finally noticed him. Her smile vanished.