The mansion became a luxury clinic. Alexander hired renowned specialists—speech therapists, psychologists, elite caregivers with flawless résumés. None made a difference.
Ethan remained in his quiet corner, watching dust float in sunlight, unmoved. One by one, Alexander dismissed them. “If you can’t help him speak, you’re wasting my time,” he would say, cold and final.
So he stopped learning names. Until Rosa arrived.
Rosa had no polished résumé, no degrees. She was a sturdy middle-aged woman with worn hands and steady eyes. She had come to help clean the house, recommended by the cook. But that same morning, the latest “expert nanny” quit in frustration. With a flight to Tokyo hours away, Alexander glanced at Rosa as she scrubbed the floor.
“Do you know how to care for children?” he asked.
“I raised four,” she replied calmly. “And helped raise my grandkids. They turned out fine.”
“You’re hired,” he said. “Feed him, dress him, keep him safe. Don’t try to teach him. The doctors say it’s pointless. I’ll be back in a week.”