Maya Williams had worked for wealthy families before, but the Blake household was… different. Everything gleamed—polished marble floors, silver-framed photos of stern ancestors, fresh flowers changed every morning by a florist who never smiled. The house was silent except for the soft chime of the grandfather clock in the hallway.
Her job was simple: clean, cook occasionally, and assist Mrs. Delaney, the head housekeeper, with whatever she needed. The baby—Lily Blake—was supposed to be cared for by her father, Nathaniel, and a rotation of professional nannies.
But lately, the nannies had quit one by one, whispering about the baby’s constant crying, her refusal to sleep, and the father’s impossible expectations.
On that particular night, the crying had been going on for hours. Maya wasn’t even supposed to be in the nursery, but she’d been walking past and couldn’t ignore the desperate little wails.
She stepped inside quietly, her heart tightening at the sight of Lily in her crib—tiny fists waving in the air, cheeks wet, gasping for breath between sobs.
