“You never put that on your application.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I stopped working in hospitals.”

“Why?”

The question landed harder than it should have.

There were some memories you could bury, but they never stopped listening for footsteps.

“My younger brother died when I was twenty-one,” I said.

Alessio's expression didn't change.

“He had a congenital heart condition. He was sick for years. Hospitals became the place where I learned everything about fear.”

I swallowed.

“I couldn't keep living inside those walls.”

He looked away first.

That surprised me.

Then he said, “You saved my son.”

“I did my job.”

“No.”

His voice was quiet.

“You saved my son while I had a gun against your head.”

I looked at him.

“That was your mistake.”

Something almost like a smile touched his mouth.

“Probably.”

At 4:06, Alessio called everyone into the downstairs study.

The house manager.

Two security guards.

The chef.

Three housekeepers.

His sister, Bianca.

His younger cousin, Marco.

And me.

No one spoke.

The room smelled of coffee and rain.

Alessio stood behind his desk.

The blue bead sat inside a transparent evidence pouch beside him.

“I want everyone to understand something,” he said. “Leo nearly died tonight.”

His eyes moved across the room.

“I don't care whether you have worked for me for twenty years or twenty minutes. Whoever put that object in his mouth will be found.”

Bianca crossed her arms.

“This is ridiculous. It could have come from a toy.”

“No,” I said.

Everyone looked at me.

I placed my hands on the back of a chair.

“The bead has a narrow groove through the center.”

Alessio nodded toward the evidence bag.

“I noticed.”

“It wasn't broken naturally.”

Marco leaned forward.

“What does that mean?”

“It means someone may have removed it from something deliberately.”

Bianca looked at me.

“You're accusing someone.”

“No.”

I met her gaze.

“I'm saying someone should be worried.”

The security chief, Dominic, entered.

He held a tablet.

“We have footage.”

Alessio looked at him.

“From the nursery?”

“Yes.”

My stomach tightened.

Dominic turned the tablet around.

The recording showed the nursery at 1:59.

Leo slept peacefully.

At 2:00, I entered.

At 2:01, I left briefly to wash my hands.

At 2:02, the nursery door opened.

Someone entered.

The image froze.

The person wore a dark robe.

Face obscured.

They approached the crib.

Then the footage went black.

Alessio's eyes narrowed.

“Why?”

“Camera malfunction,” Dominic said.

“Convenient.”

“Very.”

I looked at the screen.

“Wait.”

Dominic glanced at me.

“Go back.”

He rewound.

“Again.”

The figure entered.

This time I noticed something.

The left hand.

A bracelet.

Thin silver chain.

With a tiny black stone.

My pulse quickened.

I looked around the room.

Bianca wore no bracelet.

The housekeeper wore a watch.

The chef had bare wrists.

Marco wore a leather band.

Then I looked at Dominic.

Nothing.

Alessio noticed my expression.

“Who?”

“I don't know.”

He leaned closer.

“You do.”

“No. I remember seeing that bracelet.”

“Where?”

I closed my eyes.

Dinner.

The previous evening.

Someone had stood behind me in the kitchen.

Someone had brushed past me while I was preparing Leo's bottle.

A faint smell of lavender.

A silver bracelet.

And a hand resting briefly on the counter beside the bottles.

My eyes opened.

“The nursery wasn't the target,” I said.

Alessio stared at me.

“What?”

“The bottle.”

He didn't understand.

“The person entered the nursery after I left. But they knew exactly when I would leave.”

I looked toward Dominic.

“Check the kitchen camera.”

He did.

Nothing.

“It's offline.”

My skin prickled.

“The kitchen camera too?”

“Yes.”

“And the hallway?”

“Offline.”

Alessio's face changed.

“Someone didn't disable one camera.”

He turned toward Dominic.

“They disabled the cameras around the entire nursery route.”

Dominic nodded.

“Someone with access.”

Nobody spoke.

Then a woman screamed.

We all turned.

The housekeeper had dropped a tray in the hallway.

Coffee spread across the marble floor.

She was staring at the evidence pouch.

At the blue bead.

Her face had gone white.

Alessio walked toward her.

“What?”

She shook her head.

“I didn't do anything.”

“I didn't ask if you did.”

She backed away.

“I swear.”

Alessio stopped.

“Then tell me what you know.”

Her lips trembled.

“I saw someone upstairs.”

“When?”

“Two nights ago.”

“Who?”

She looked at me.

Then at Alessio.

“Mrs. Romano.”

The room went silent.

Alessio's mother had been dead for six years.

His sister stepped forward.

“She's talking about my mother.”

The housekeeper nodded desperately.

“I know.”

“You saw a dead woman?”

“No.”

She began crying.

“I saw someone wearing her robe.”

Alessio's face went blank.

“Where?”

“In the nursery.”

My stomach dropped.

The robe.

The bracelet.

The hidden camera.

Everything clicked together.

Someone hadn't simply tried to hurt Leo.

Someone wanted the household frightened enough to suspect a ghost, a family feud, anything except the truth.

Alessio turned toward Dominic.

“Search the nursery again.”

Dominic hesitated.

“Boss—”

“Now.”

They went upstairs.

We followed.

When Dominic removed the decorative panel beneath the nursery bookshelf, he found a tiny black camera hidden behind the wood.

The green light on the original camera had been a decoy.

The hidden camera was wired separately.

It had been recording everything.

Every bottle prepared.

Every feeding.

Every time Leo slept.

Every time I entered or left.

Alessio stared at it.

“Who installed it?”

Dominic shook his head.

“We'll trace the wiring.”

“No.”

Alessio looked at him.

“Play the recording.”

The screen filled with the nursery.

Hours passed in accelerated silence.

Then the footage slowed.

At 1:42 a.m., someone entered.

This time the camera angle was clear.

The person removed the pacifier clip from the dresser.

They held it beneath the light.

Then they took a tool from their pocket.

One blue bead was twisted free.

The same bead now sitting inside the evidence pouch.

They placed something inside Leo's crib.

Then they looked directly into the hidden camera.

My breath stopped.

The person removed the hood.

Bianca.

Alessio's sister.

No one moved.

Bianca whispered, “No.”

Alessio turned toward her.

She backed against the wall.

“I didn't—”

The footage continued.

Bianca wasn't alone.

Another figure entered behind her.

Marco.

He handed her a small black case.

Bianca opened it.

Inside were several blue beads.

My blood ran cold.

They had planned more than one attempt.

Alessio's voice became almost impossibly calm.

“How long?”

Bianca shook her head.

“Alessio, listen to me.”

“How long?”

“I never meant for him to die.”

“That wasn't my question.”

Tears filled her eyes.

“Three months.”

The words seemed to hollow out the room.

Three months.

The exact length of time I had worked in the house.

I looked at Alessio.

He looked at me.

For one terrible second, suspicion passed between us.

Then I understood.

I hadn't been hired to protect Leo.

I had been hired because someone needed a witness who would be blamed.

A nanny with medical knowledge.

A nanny who could be accused of negligence.

A nanny who would be standing beside the crib when Leo was found unconscious.

I felt suddenly cold.

“She chose me,” I whispered.

Alessio's eyes sharpened.

“What?”

“Your sister didn't need a nanny.”

I looked at Bianca.

“She needed someone to blame.”

Bianca began sobbing.

Marco tried to run.