Chapter 1

"This kid was born with a severe nervous disorder. There's nothing we can do. You should start preparing for the worst," Ayden Bond, the top specialist, said.

He shook his head as he delivered the critical condition notice to the Barton family's precious grandson, Felix Barton.

Felix's mother fainted right then and there, and the whole Barton family was thrown into chaos.

But in my head, a crisp, furious baby voice suddenly sounded. [Nonsense! I was poked by the pure gold tag on the back of my collar. It hurts.]

I took a deep breath, under the bodyguards' murderous glares, and yanked off Felix's 35-thousand-dollar custom baby outfit.

*****

"This kid was born with a severe nervous disorder. There's nothing we can do. You should start preparing for the worst," Ayden Bond said, shaking his head as he closed the medical record and set it down on the table.

Felix's mother's eyes rolled back, and she collapsed backward. The two nannies scrambled to catch her, and the whole room was thrown into chaos.

Anthony Barton, Felix's grandfather, stood nearby, his face ashen, his knuckles cracking as he gripped his cane.

Meanwhile, I, a trainee nanny who'd gotten yelled at and kicked out by my last boss in front of everyone, was crouched by the baby's crib, gathering up my meager belongings.

I hadn't officially started working there yet.

The agency had sent me over at the last minute, saying that something had happened to the Barton family's precious grandson.

And the previous nanny had bolted in the middle of the night. They needed someone to fill in as soon as possible.

The agency's exact words were, "Keep your mouth shut and do your job. The Barton family pays three times what anyone else does."

I hadn't figured out which way the Barton family's front door faced before I was shoved into this nursery, which was bigger than my apartment.

And then I walked into this expert consultation.

Felix was lying in the crib, crying his heart out, his little face flushed bright red.

Ayden frowned and took a half-step back, putting some distance between himself and the crib.

He said, "This non-stop crying has been going on for over seventy-two hours, along with refusing to feed, trouble sleeping, and muscle spasms.

"All things considered, it's a congenital nervous system disorder. In my forty years as a doctor, I've only seen this three times, and not once did it end well."

When he finished speaking, Ayden scanned the room, his voice grave and authoritative. "Mr. Barton, I understand how much this child means to your family.

"But there are limits to what medicine can do. I'm sorry. I can't give you false hope."

Anthony thumped his cane hard against the floor.

"Dr. Bond, are you telling me that my grandson, the sole heir of the Barton family for three generations, is finished?" he demanded.

Ayden sighed, saying nothing.

The room went dead silent for a couple of seconds, and then all hell broke loose.

Josie Barton, the eldest daughter-in-law of the Barton family, was the first to break down, rushing to the crib.

"My baby, my darling, nothing will happen to you. Mom doesn't believe him, not a single word," Josie cried out.

Chandler Barton, the second son, stood by the door with a complicated expression.

His mouth twisted downward, and he stayed silent, but his eyes drifted over to his older brother, Darian Barton.

I caught that look.

Chandler was definitely enjoying their misfortune.

This family was a snake pit.

But that was not my problem.

I was a temp nanny, there for tonight and gone the next day.

I kept my head down, gathering up my stuff, when suddenly, a voice exploded in my head.

It wasn't something I heard with my ears. It blasted inside my mind.

It was crisp and articulate, full of energy, and carried a righteous, furious vibe. [Nonsense! Congenital nervous disorder? I got pricked in my back.

[That damn metal tag, hard as a rock, has been poking me for three days. It's been three days. Are you grown-ups all blind or what?]

The plastic bag in my hand dropped to the floor.

I snapped my head around, staring at the baby in the crib, who was crying so hard that he was nearly out of breath.

He was only seventeen days old, his skin still wrinkled from being a newborn, his tiny fists clenched tight, mouth stretched wide, his cries louder and louder.

The voice echoed in my head again. [It hurts. It hurts. It hurts so much. I don't wanna wear this stupid outfit.

[There's something hard on the back of the collar. Every time I move, it stabs me. Do you think I'm made of iron or something?]

I was rooted to the spot, my mind wiped clean.

I wondered if that voice came from the baby's head.

I wanted to figure out what the hell was going on.

I shook my head hard, thinking maybe I'd been run ragged these past few days and was starting to hallucinate.

I hadn't slept for three days, got yelled at all day by my last boss, and got splashed in the face with some scalding soup meant for new moms.

My left cheek was still burning. It was no surprise I was hearing things.

But then the voice came again, louder this time. [Hey! You, the lady with puffy eyes squatting over there. Yeah, you.

[You don't seem as clueless as the rest of them. Please, help me get that hard thing off my back. I'm begging you.]

I stared at the baby, stunned.

His tiny head leaned in my direction, those eyes red with tears, as if he were looking at me.