Marcus felt the statement land inside him like a stone dropped into deep water. He leaned against the doorframe to keep his legs steady. He wondered whether the previous nannies had raised their voices too often, or whether the fear had come from the void he himself had created by keeping his distance from the children after their mother died. Grief had locked him inside a room no one could open. Including his sons.
Rosie lifted her head and finally noticed him. Her eyes widened, but she quickly rose to her feet, smoothing her skirt.
“Mr. Ellington. We didn’t expect you back until Friday.”
The boys snapped their eyes toward him. Their small bodies stiffened. They shifted closer to her as though she were a lighthouse and he were the dark sea.
“I came back early,” Marcus said. His voice sounded unused. “Please, continue.”
But the moment was gone. The boys murmured a practiced greeting. He answered politely, because he didn’t know what else to say. Then he turned and left before he could ruin whatever serenity Rosie had created.