Chapter 5
I didn't look back.
I hailed a cab and gave the driver the address for Lakeview Manor.
The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror.
"Miss, are you sure you got the address right? That's the Landon Family's private estate," he said.
"I'm sure," I replied.
"Do you work for the Landon Family?" he asked.
"I'm the nanny for the Landon Family," I said.
The driver didn't say anything else.
By the time I got back to Lakeview Manor, it was almost nine.
The butler said Leo was already asleep.
I pushed open Leo's door as quietly as I could and peeked inside.
The little guy was curled up in a ball, clutching his gray bunny tight, fast asleep.
A sheet of drawing paper sat on his nightstand.
I picked it up and glanced at it.
It was Leo's drawing from earlier that afternoon.
There was a house, a tall figure, and a smaller one.
Beside the smaller figure, two words were scribbled.
The letters were shaky, but still readable.
[Nanny.]
I gently placed the drawing back on the nightstand and quietly closed the door.
Back in my room, I sat on the edge of the bed, buried my face in my hands, and let myself cry silently.
Not from grievance, but because it had been so long since anyone had made me feel needed.
On the third day, I started to figure out Leo's routines.
He didn't like being touched, but it would be fine as long as I kept an arm's length away.
He hated loud noises, so whenever I spoke to him, I always kept my voice soft and gentle.
He loved drawing, building with blocks, and just zoning out while sitting on the windowsill.
His absolute favorite was that gray rabbit plushie. He carried it with him everywhere he went.
That morning, I tried telling him a story.
At first, he wasn't interested, but after a while, he slowly moved closer.
I spun a tale about a rabbit, just like his favorite plushie, going on a wild adventure.
When I got to the part where the rabbit fell into the river, Leo suddenly piped up, "Can it swim?"
"What do you think?" I asked.
Leo paused, thinking it over. "Teach it."
"Okay, Leo, you show it how to swim," I encouraged.
Leo took the lead, stumbling through a few lines of the story.
The butler stood in the doorway, his eyes growing misty as he listened.
Later, he told me, "Miss Winters, Leo hasn't spoken this much in two years."
That afternoon, Charles unexpectedly came home earlier than usual.
When he walked in, Leo was sitting next to me, building a bridge with his blocks.
When Leo saw Charles, his eyes lit up.
"Dad," Leo called out.
Charles walked over, crouched down on one knee, and gently patted Leo's head.
"Were you a good boy today?" Charles asked.
Leo nodded, then pointed at me.
"Miss Winters taught me how to build a bridge," Leo said.
Charles shot me a glance.
The look he gave me was a bit warmer than yesterday, just a little, though.
"Good," Charles said.
I wasn't sure if he meant Leo or me.
Charles stood up and told the butler, "Tell the chef to prepare an extra dish. Miss Winters will be dining with us tonight."
It was my first time sharing a dinner table with Charles.
He ate with impeccable manners, moving neither too fast nor too slow, every gesture as elegant as if he were shooting a commercial.
Leo sat next to him, eating with his spoon, occasionally making a little mess on the table.
I reached over and wiped Leo's mouth for him.
Charles spared me a glance.
"What did you do before?" he asked.
"I was interning at a clinic," I replied.
"Why did you stop?" he asked.
"The clinic closed down," I said.
Actually, it was because my mentor ran into trouble, and the entire research project got shut down, and I lost my internship as a result.
Charles didn't ask any more questions.
"Leo has a check-up tomorrow. You'll go with him," Charles said.
"What kind of check-up?" I asked.
"Pediatric developmental check-up. He has to go every month," Charles replied.
"Alright," I said.
After dinner, Charles went up to the third floor.
I helped Leo brush his teeth and get ready for bed, then told him a bedtime story.
As I spoke, he slowly drifted off to sleep, his little hand still clutching my sleeve.
I gently freed his hand from my sleeve and tucked him in.
As I reached the doorway, I looked back at him one last time.
Honestly, all this kid needed was someone who could patiently stay by his side.
On the fourth morning, I took Leo to Northbridge Children's Hospital.