Chapter 2: The Housekeeper's Eyes
He dropped the bag.
It hit the floor the same way the cup had — sudden, loud, final.
"What did you do?"
His voice was low.
Not a shout.
Something worse than a shout.
The woman turned slowly.
Her expression hadn't fully changed yet.
She still looked like someone who had been interrupted, not someone who had been caught.
"She dropped it," she said.
"I was correcting her."
He was already on his knees beside the little girl.
His hands moved carefully around her, checking her arms, her side, the small hand still pressed against the marble.
"Look at her," he said.
"Look at what you did."
"She needs to learn—"
"She is FOUR."
The little girl grabbed his sleeve with both hands and pressed her face into his shoulder.
Her whole body was shaking.
He stood up slowly, the child held against his chest.
That was when he noticed the housekeeper standing frozen in the hallway doorway.
She had been there the whole time.
Her face said everything her mouth wouldn't.
He looked back at the woman.
"How long has this been happening?"
The woman said nothing.
But the housekeeper's eyes moved — just slightly — toward the stairs.
And that small movement told him the answer was not what he had feared.
It was worse.
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What the housekeeper had seen upstairs changed everything.
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