The following morning, Michael pretended to leave for work but parked a block away. He returned quietly and installed discreet cameras in common areas, ashamed of his own suspicion yet desperate for understanding. Over the next week, he watched the recordings late into the night. Paige transformed every task into a gentle lesson. Folding laundry became a conversation about colors. Cooking turned into counting exercises. Story time flowed naturally into discussions about feelings and memories.
“Why is the sky orange at night,” Ava asked one evening.
Paige smiled. “Because the sun is saying goodbye, just like people do. It does not mean it is gone forever.”
Michael felt his chest tighten. Ava nodded thoughtfully, absorbing the words without fear.
Not everyone in the house approved. Agnes Whitford, the longtime house manager who had worked for the Reynolds family for decades, watched Paige with thinly veiled resentment.
“You are crossing lines,” Agnes warned one afternoon. “You were hired to assist, not to raise the child.”
“I am not replacing anyone,” Paige replied calmly. “I am just listening to her.”