The house felt alive again.
Matteo’s giggles filled the halls, the cheerful noise Carmen hadn’t heard since the shooting. He was playing with his cars on the living room floor, his tiny hands zooming them around, making soft vroom-vroom sounds.
Ella sat beside him, cross-legged, handing him another toy car with a warm smile.
“What color is this one, Matteo?” she asked gently. “Red!” Matteo chirped, grabbing the car eagerly. Ella chuckled softly. “That’s right. Just like a fire truck.”
Carmen stood by the doorway, arms crossed, watching them.
It was strange—seeing another woman play with her son. Seeing Matteo smile at someone else. But it was also…
Comforting. “He’s been so much better,” Carmen said quietly, almost to herself.
Marco glanced up from his laptop, the lines on his face deeper than usual. “Yeah?”
Carmen nodded, her chest tightening. “He’s smiling again. Laughing.”
Marco’s gaze shifted to Matteo, his eyes softening just a little. But even as Matteo laughed, Marco remained distant, his eyes flicking back to the laptop screen, full of financial reports and security alerts.
There had been sabotage attempts at his business. Shipments gone missing, documents tampered with. Someone was working to bring down everything he’d built.
“Marco,” Carmen called gently. He grunted, still typing away. “You should spend some time with him,” she suggested, biting her lip. “He misses you.”
Marco’s jaw tightened. “He doesn’t even look at me,” he muttered. “What’s the point?”
Carmen’s heart ached. She reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Just try.”
But Marco was already back to his work, his fingers flying over the keys, his face tense and unreadable.
Carmen sat at the kitchen table, flipping through the mail, sorting bills from junk. Matteo ran in, his tiny feet thudding against the tiles, holding a drawing in his hands.
“Mama, look!” he beamed, shoving the paper into her hands.
She smiled down at the crayon-scribbled masterpiece—a wobbly drawing of their house, with three stick figures in front. Herself, Marco, and Matteo.
But there was another figure—taller, with a big yellow circle for hair.
“Is this Miss Ella?” Carmen asked, tracing the yellow circle. Matteo nodded eagerly. “Nanny likes drawing.”
Carmen smiled softly. “I can see that.”
Matteo bounced on his toes. “Nanny says I don’t need you all the time.”
The smile faded from Carmen’s face.
“What?”
Matteo just shrugged, unbothered, looking around the kitchen for a snack. “What do you mean, sweetheart?” Carmen pressed gently.
Matteo climbed into a chair, swinging his legs. “Nanny says secrets are important.” Carmen’s brow furrowed.
“What kind of secrets?”
But Matteo just grinned and shook his head, as if it was a fun game he wasn’t allowed to explain.
Carmen couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling. Ella had been nothing but kind since she started. Matteo was happier, calmer, sleeping through the night again.
But those words—Nanny says I don’t need you all the timeAs she cleared the dinner table, Carmen glanced at Marco, who was still buried in his laptop, eyes narrowed at the screen.
“Have you noticed anything… strange with Ella?” she ventured carefully.
Marco didn’t look up. “What do you mean?”
“Matteo says things sometimes,” Carmen murmured, running her fingers along the edge of a plate. “Things that don’t sound like him.”
Marco shrugged, not even pausing in his work. “Maybe she’s just helping him adjust.”
Carmen bit her lip. “Maybe.”
“Look,” Marco finally glanced at her, his eyes tired and shadowed. “I don’t care what she says as long as Matteo’s okay. We have bigger problems right now.”
And just like that, he was back to his emails, his phone buzzing with another urgent text.
That night, Carmen tucked Matteo into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. He smiled sleepily, his eyes fluttering.
“Mama?” he mumbled. “Yes, baby?”
“Can Nanny read to me tonight?”
Carmen’s heart sank, but she forced a smile. “Sure darling. If that’s what you want.”
“She has nice stories,” Matteo yawned.
Carmen kissed his forehead, smoothing his hair back. “I’ll go get her for you, baby. Mommy, loves you,” she whispered.
Matteo was already half asleep, mumbling something that Carmen couldn’t quite make out. She quietly walked to Ella’s quarters and told her that Matteo wanted her to read to him. Ella, ever eager to help, happily agreed. But deep down, Carmen felt a pang in her heart. Matteo used to be so clingy with her, always seeking her comfort. Now, all he seemed to need was Ella.
She made her way to the kitchen and decided a glass of water might help clear her mind. Luca entered soon after, reaching for a cup of coffee.
“I see Matteo’s happy,” Luca said, pouring the coffee. “Yet, you look worried again.”
Carmen sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. Is Marco working late again?”
Luca took a sip of his coffee and nodded. “He won’t stop. I’m sorry, but I need to get back to my post. You should rest—remember, that’s the point of having a nanny.”
Carmen forced a small smile. “You’re right.”
She made her way upstairs, the dim hallway light casting long shadows along the walls. As she approached her room, she heard it.
A soft whispering coming from Matteo’s quarters. She paused, heart thudding in her chest, inching closer. Ella’s voice—gentle, but strangely cold. “You know I’m here for you, Matteo,” Ella whispered. “No matter what happens. Secrets are safe with Nanny, remember?”
Carmen’s blood ran cold. She couldn’t make out the rest of the words, but Matteo’s tiny, sleepy voice murmured in response. Carmen stepped back, a chill skittering down her spine. But she forced herself to breathe, to shake off the paranoia.
Ella was helping. Matteo was getting better.
Wasn’t he?
Maybe it’s just a childish game. Carmen turned away, trying to ignore the nagging doubts clawing at her. But the whispers continued, seeping into the walls, settling into her bones.
And as she crawled into bed beside Marco, who was already asleep, the feeling didn’t fade. Something wasn’t right.
But Carmen couldn’t put her finger on it.