Chapter 8
Elise had left another letter.
For Nora.
That surprised both of us.
It was hidden beneath the lining of the old nursery drawer.
NORA ELLIS.
How did Elise know her?
Nora stared.
“I worked here before she died.”
Of course.
Not as Oliver’s nanny.
Junior housemaid.
I barely remembered.
Elise had.
The letter read:
If you are still here when Oliver is old enough to reach for people, let him choose who comforts him.
My throat tightened.
Elise understood our family.
Too many adults believing care should follow hierarchy.
Mother.
Father.
Aunt.
Nanny.
Rank.
Elise did not care.
If Oliver felt safe, let him reach.
Then:
And if Damian mistakes gratitude for distance, remind him that children do not betray parents by loving other safe adults.
I laughed despite myself.
Nora cried.
Elise had predicted me too.
I looked at Nora.
“I would have made that mistake.”
She smiled weakly.
“You almost did.”
Fair.
Then the letter turned darker.
If someone ever tries to remove you because Oliver trusts you, ask what they gain from making his world smaller.
Camille.
Exactly.
She did not merely resent Nora personally.
Nora represented something Camille could not control.
Oliver’s independent attachment.
A relationship not granted through Camille.
So she tried to break it.
First by ordering Nora away.
Then by locking Oliver alone.
Then by threatening Rosewood House if Nora spoke.
Every move reduced his safe world until Camille hoped she would become necessary.
May you like
That was not motherhood.
It was monopoly.
