Page 14

Someone is touching me. One hand is on each side of my face, and the fingers are warm against my skin.

I open my eyes. It takes a second for the shape in front of me to settle into something solid. Jonah.

He’s closer than I realized, but I don’t feel overwhelmed. He’s present without pressure. His hand moves to my cheek. I lean into it before I can stop myself.

The movement seems to catch him off guard. There’s the smallest flicker in his expression, something unreadable, quick. But he doesn’t pull back.

“You’re safe,” he says, and the words land solidly in my chest. “This isn’t bad news. No one’s asking you to go. We want to help.”

The panic doesn’t leave all at once. It fights to stay—tight in my ribs, shallow in my breath, sharp at the edges of my vision. But eventually my breath steadies.

Jonah lowers his hands. He doesn’t say anything else, just nods toward the hallway, giving me space to choose. I go with him.

He said it isn’t bad news, and I want to believe him.

The kitchen is bright with mid-morning light. The windows are open just enough to let in the cool edge of the mountain air. Mae sits at the table with her legs tucked under her, one hand curled around a spoon. The scowly one is nearby, setting a glass of juice down beside her. He glances up when I walk in but doesn’t acknowledge me beyond that.

Mae looks at me too. She’s changed her clothes, now wearing a long-sleeved shirt with a faded dinosaur print. She doesn’t smile or speak. She just watches me for a beat before returning to her cereal.

I wonder whose daughter she is. She doesn’t really look like any of them, but I know it doesn’t always work that way. I’m the spitting image of my mother, barely any of my father is visible in my face.

The scowly one straightens up and crosses his arms over his chest. His expression is unreadable. The sweet one walks in behind me, slipping around the table to lean against the far counter.

No one says anything right away.

I grip the warm mug in my hands, waiting for one of them to talk.

Jonah clears his throat. “We talked this morning,” he says. “About what might come next. For you.”

I nod once, though I’m not sure I’m ready for what follows.

“We know you don’t have anything with you,” the sweet one adds. “No way to get back on your feet right now. So we were thinking...”

He trails off and glances at the scowly one, who doesn’t look thrilled to be part of this conversation.

He exhales through his nose and turns toward me. “We need help with Mae.”

The girl doesn’t look up.

“We’ve got coverage most days, but between shifts and call-outs, it’s getting harder to keep things consistent. We’ve been looking for someone to help out. Someone we trust. And it’s not exactly easy to find people willing to drive up this far for part-time work.”

Jonah steps in again. “You need a place to stay. Mae needs someone here. We thought—if you’re willing—it might work for all of us.”

It takes me a second to process what they’re saying.

“You want me to be her nanny?” I ask.

“Basically,” the sweet one says. “You’d stay here for free. And we’d pay you. Not much, but enough to get you started. You’d have time to figure out what comes next. And you’d be safe here in the meantime.”

I blink. It’s not what I expected. Not even close.

“I don’t have anything,” I say before I can stop myself. “Not even clothes.”

“We’ll take care of that,” the sweet one says. “Not a problem.”

I glance toward Mae again. She’s still focused on her bowl, but I catch her watching me from the corner of her eye.

“Do you want that?” I ask, my voice lower now.