Chapter 6

But I noticed Kenna's nails pressing into the cup, her fingertips turning white from how tightly she gripped it.

I took a deep breath, bowed, and said, "Thank you for your kindness, Mr. Barton," before quickly retreating.

Back in the lounge, Felix had been brought back by the maid. He was awake in his crib, his big, round eyes scanning the room, and the voice in my head was gloating.

[Grandpa's got Mia's back now. Let's see who dares mess with my official godmother. Oh, and earlier, some lady got too close to my face.

[Her lipstick almost smeared on me, and the chemical smell was so strong that I nearly passed out. No more of those people near me.]

I almost burst out laughing at him, but quickly held it in.

Four days after the baby's baptism party, something happened.

At two in the afternoon, the butler knocked on the door and came in, followed by a middle-aged man in a sharp suit.

The butler said, "Mia, this is Mr. George Hunter. Jasmine from the Hunter family would like a maternity nanny to check on her child."

I'd never heard of the Hunter family before.

But the butler explained, "Mr. Hunter plays cards with Mr. Anthony Barton."

So, George was Anthony's card partner. They were not playing for five dollars a hand, surely.

George was in his forties, with a friendly face and the kind of polite manner only seen in businessmen.

He said, "Ms. Spencer, I've heard so much about you. Anthony can't stop singing your praises, saying you're the most gifted maternity nanny he's ever met.

"My son is three months old, and he cries nonstop. It's not a bit of fussing. He wails all night long. We've hired several nannies and even checked with the pediatrician.

"But they say he's perfectly healthy. His mom's on the verge of a breakdown, and I'm out of options. I was hoping you could take a look."

"I'm a trainee nanny," I replied.

"If Anthony says you're good, you must be," George said with a smile. "Don't worry. You'll be paid for your trouble."

I looked to the butler, who nodded slightly. "Mrs. Barton has agreed. Felix is doing well today, and the maid can watch him for a few hours."

If so, I would go then.

The Hunter family lived in a gated community on the west side of the city, across town from the Barton family. The drive took forty minutes.

The Hunter family's villa was a bit smaller than the Bartons', but the place was decked out in a sleek, minimalist style, gray and white everywhere.

Jasmine was waiting at the door herself. She looked to be in her early thirties, with a round face and a touch of baby fat.

The dark circles under her eyes could've been straight out of an abstract painting.

She looked like she hadn't had a decent night's sleep in forever.

"Mia, I've been waiting for you. Please, come in." She grabbed my hand like I was her last hope.

When we walked into the nursery, I saw the three-month-old baby boy.

Unlike Felix, this little guy looked perfectly healthy, chubby, with strong limbs, alert, and lively.

But he wouldn't stop crying.

It wasn't the heart-wrenching cry of pain, but a loud, angry, protesting wail. He'd cry, take a breather, then cry again, all in a rhythm, almost like he was on strike.

I walked up to the crib.

Right away, the voice rushed into my head. [No, I don't want to lie down. Hold me upright. Why do you always lay me flat?

[What's so great about the ceiling, anyway? I've been staring at it for three months. It's so boring. I want out. I want to see the world.

[There's a bird in the tree outside the window, and I want a closer look. Don't you understand what babies need for their sanity?]

I froze for a second.

Man, this kid's needs were a whole different story from Felix's.

Felix cried because he was in physical pain.

But this one cried because his emotional needs weren't being met.

At three months old, babies were already super curious and eager to explore. Lying flat on his back all day was mind-numbing for him.

Some babies were chill and could amuse themselves, but this little guy was restless. Being left to lie there was torture for him.

"Mrs. Hunter," I asked, "how do you usually take care of him when he's awake?"

"We put him in the crib or the bassinet. He cries no matter what, whether we hold him or lay him down. So we figured maybe he needs more rest lying down," she replied, sounding exhausted.

"Have you tried holding him upright so he can see what's going on around him?" I asked.

Jasmine hesitated. "Hold him upright? He's only three months old. Is his neck strong enough for that?"

"At three months, babies can be held upright for a little while, as long as you support their head and neck," I explained. "Want me to give it a try?"

Jasmine nodded eagerly.

I picked up the chubby little guy from the crib, one hand under his bottom, the other steadying his head and neck, with his face turned outward, leaning against my chest.