The housekeeper Victoria had hired a month earlier. Jonathan barely remembered her—quiet, eyes down, blue uniform. That very morning, Victoria had warned him casually, “Be careful with that girl. I think she’s rough with the boys. I’ve seen them cry around her.”
But Grace was anything but rough. She ran back and forth, making ridiculous faces, drawing peals of laughter. Sweat shone on her brow, but she smiled like the effort was a gift.
What struck Jonathan wasn’t just the joy—it was the trust. No fear. No tension. The boys clung to her like she was safety itself.
His legs weakened. Either Victoria was telling the truth—or she had been lying for months.
Jonathan stayed hidden behind a massive oak. If he stepped in now, the truth would vanish.
Grace knelt when Ethan scraped his knee. No screaming. Just a quiet offering of trust. She blew gently, kissed the spot theatrically.
“All better, brave boy. Auntie Grace’s magic works every time.”
The twins hugged her tightly. Shame burned in Jonathan’s chest. That hug should have been his.
Then the mood snapped.
Grace stiffened. High heels clicked sharply on stone.