Chapter 4

The first day after they left, the silence was almost suffocating.

No one was ordering me around anymore, making me gulp down that watery mess they dared to call oatmeal.

No one was flicking their cigarette butts into the water I used to warm my baby's milk.

Monica Davis, the nanny, was a real pro.

She was quiet and efficient, handling everything with ease.

She fed the baby, burped her, and changed her diaper. Everything was smooth and easy.

The postpartum meals Monica made for me were nutritious and well-balanced, with a mild, subtle flavor.

Finally, I got to eat…