Chapter 2

This wasn't my imagination.

A seventeen-day-old baby was talking straight into my mind.

He was complaining that something hard was digging into his back.

My eyes landed on the baby's outfit.

It was an insanely fancy onesie. The fabric had a silky sheen, and the collar and cuffs were embroidered with super intricate patterns.

No way this was some bargain bin stuff. It probably cost more than three months of my salary.

My gaze shifted to the back of the collar.

And there it was, a stiff tag poking out.

My hand reached out toward the crib, but I jerked it back.

I couldn't do this.

This was the Barton family's golden boy, the apple of their eye.

I was a temp nanny, called in last minute. Three hours ago, I got kicked out of my last job, still wearing my uniform stained with soup, a burn on my face, and only 27 dollars to my name.

If I dared touch the baby's clothes, the Barton family's bodyguards would have me pinned to the floor in a heartbeat.

But that voice in my head kept nagging. [Oh, it hurts. No matter how I move, it still pokes me.

[On my back, on my side, it's all the same. I'm about to go crazy. Do you grown-ups know what you're doing?]

The baby's cries shot up another notch.

Josie was shaking from the baby's cries, clutching the crib rail so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

Ayden had stepped back to the doorway, his face grave as he whispered instructions to his assistant.

Anthony was leaning on his cane, one hand pressed to his chest, while his private doctor checked his blood pressure.

Everyone was busy, but no one was paying attention to what was wrong with the baby.

All they saw was the "illness."

No one considered that the baby might not be sick at all.

I took a deep breath.

And I took another one.

Then I stood up. "Wait a second."

I didn't speak loudly, but everyone in the room heard me.

All eyes snapped to me.

The bodyguard's hand hovered at his waist, ready to draw, and his stare could cut through me.

Josie looked at me with tear-stained eyes, having no clue who I was. Anthony frowned, watching me like I was trouble.

Ayden's assistant stepped in front of him, like he thought I was about to go wild and start swinging.

I swallowed hard.

My legs were trembling.

But I forced myself to walk over to the crib.

"What are you doing?" the bodyguard growled, stepping forward.

"I want to take a look at the baby's clothes," I said, trying to sound calm.

"The clothes?" Josie stared at me, lost. "Who are you?"

"The temp nanny the agency sent over today," the butler in uniform replied coolly, his tone dripping with disdain. "An intern."

Josie's face fell. "An intern? Dr. Bond said it's a nervous disorder. Why are you messing with the clothes? Stop making a fuss and get out."

"Mrs. Barton," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, "I want to check the tag on the back of the baby's collar."

"The tag?" Ayden turned at the doorway, giving me a look through his thick glasses, a hint of impatience on his lips. "The baby's been crying nonstop, refusing to eat, and having muscle spasms.

"That's textbook neurological symptoms. What does that have to do with his clothes? You're just a nanny. Don't interfere with professional judgment."

My head was about to burst from that voice in my mind. [It's the tag. That stupid tag. That hard thing keeps stabbing the skin right under my neck. My skin's so sensitive.

[The tag's metal, with sharp edges. Every time I move, it cuts me. It's been three days, three whole days of pain.

[I've cried so much that my throat's about to give out. Somebody help me already.]

The baby's cries reached a fever pitch, sharp, desperate, and heart-wrenching.

I gritted my teeth and reached out to check under the baby's collar.

"Don't you dare!" the bodyguard snapped, grabbing my wrist. His grip was so tight that it made my wrist ache.

Josie shrieked, "Pull her back. Are you crazy?"

"Let me check," I shouted, my voice louder and more urgent than I expected. "One quick look. If I'm wrong, punish me however you want.

"But what if the baby's really being stabbed by that tag? Are you going to let him keep hurting?"

The whole room fell silent for a moment.

Anthony's voice came from behind me, low and raspy. "Let her take a look."

The bodyguard paused, then looked over at Anthony.

Anthony narrowed his eyes, his stare intense as he fixed it on me. "A baby nurse dares to stand up to the medical director in front of everyone.

"Either she's lost her mind, or she's onto something. Let her do it. If anything happens, I'll take responsibility."

The bodyguard released my wrist.

Five red marks were left on my wrist, but I barely noticed the pain.