The new nanny, Mrs. Gable, was highly recommended. She was older, maternal, and unfazed by the sprawling size of the Estate. She was currently folding muslin cloths in the nursery when the door creaked shut behind her.
She turned around. Leo was standing there. He was dressed in his prep school uniform, his tie perfectly knotted.
“Mrs. Gable,” Leo said softly. “Welcome.”
“Hello, Leo,” she smiled warmly. “Your parents told me you’re quite the helper.”
“I am,” Leo agreed. He walked over to Hope’s crib and looked down at his sleeping sister. Then he turned his gaze to the nanny. The warmth in the room evaporated.
“My parents gave you a contract,” Leo said, his voice polite but icy. “It covers hours, pay, and non-disclosure agreements. But there are other rules.”
Mrs. Gable blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Rule one,” Leo recited. “You never take her out of this room without clearing the perimeter. Rule two: If a photographer approaches you on a walk, you do not engage; you call security immediately. Rule three: You will never, ever mention our grandfather’s name in her presence.”
He took a step closer. “If you break my parents’ rules, you get fired. If you break my rules… you will never work in this hemisphere again. Do we understand each other?”
Mrs. Gable swallowed hard, a chill running down her spine. “Yes, Leo.”
“Good,” Leo smiled, transforming back into a boy. “She likes the white noise machine on the rain setting.”