Chapter 1He Chose The Nanny Now He Begs

After I got pregnant with our second, my husband hired a nanny to "help with my workload."

But when I fell down the stairs, she didn't call 911.

Instead, she rushed to comfort my daughter, the one who had pushed me.

“It’s okay, Sophie, sweetie. Don't be scared,” the nanny cooed, stroking her hair. “Auntie Jenna knows it wasn’t your fault. Mommy’s just gotten clumsy since the new baby came along.”

My daughter buried her face in the nanny’s arms, her sobs muffled. “I hate her, Auntie Jenna! That stupid, ugly woman doesn’t deserve to be my mom!” she wailed. “When Daddy divorces her, you can marry him. You can be my new mommy, okay?”

I saw a flicker of pleasure in my husband's eyes. The nanny, Jenna, just blushed.

But when I finally did step aside and give up my title as the wife of a wealthy man, they both came to regret it. I guess a nanny’s salary doesn’t quite cover the costs of a man and a child who bleed money like it’s their job.

* * *

It was Sophie’s third birthday. At six months pregnant, I had squeezed myself into a sweltering, plush mascot costume of her favorite cartoon character, planning to give her the surprise of her life.

But when I pulled off the heavy mascot head, grinning as I held out her present, her face fell.

“Oh. It’s you,” she said, her voice flat with disappointment. “Where’s Daddy?”

I figured she was just having a moment. I’d been so buried in work lately; maybe she felt neglected. I forced a patient smile. “Daddy went to pick up your birthday cake, sweetie. He’ll be right back.”

She just turned away, her little face a cold mask.

A wave of dizziness washed over me, the heat from the costume clinging to my skin, but I pushed through the discomfort and offered the gift again. “Sophie, look. Mommy got you the princess dress you wanted. Why don’t you try it on for me?”

She didn’t even glance at it. Her hand shot out and slapped the box from my grasp, sending it clattering to the floor.

“I don’t want your stupid present!” she shrieked. “I want Daddy! He promised he’d take me to get a kitten today!”

I frowned. A kitten? Sophie was severely allergic to cats. Mark would never make a mistake like that.

I reached for her, my voice gentle. “Are you sure that’s what he said, honey? I don’t remember him mentioning that.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

Her face twisted in disgust. She ripped her arm from my grasp and gave me a hard, two-handed shove.

My balance was already precarious. I stumbled backward, my feet finding only air, and then I was tumbling, crashing down the stairs. The world was a blur of motion and pain. Sophie’s terrified screams echoed from the top of the landing as Jenna, the nanny, came running.

“Jenna,” I gasped, my voice thin and reedy. “Call an ambulance. Now.”

She gave me a fleeting, dismissive glance before scooping my crying daughter into her arms. “It’s okay, Sophie, honey. Don't be scared,” she murmured, her voice dripping with false comfort. “Auntie Jenna knows it wasn’t your fault. Mommy’s just gotten so clumsy since the new baby.”

Sophie clung to her. “That woman is ugly and stupid, and she won’t let me have a kitten! I don’t want her to be my mom anymore!” she sobbed. “You’re nice to me, Auntie Jenna. When Daddy divorces her, you should marry him. You can be my new mommy!”

The words struck me harder than the fall. I couldn’t breathe.

Sophie’s birth had been traumatic. A nightmare of an emergency C-section, an allergy to the standard epidural. I had been half-conscious, feeling every pull and stitch as they brought her into the world.

And this was the child I had nearly died for? Saying things like that?

Just a few weeks ago, she was my little shadow, my sweet girl. What had changed?

Was it Jenna?

Mark had hired her when I was about five months along. He said it was to help me with Sophie. I was hesitant—Jenna was barely out of her teens—but Mark insisted she was from a reputable agency. “She’s young,” he’d argued. “She’ll have more energy to keep up with Sophie.” It made sense at the time, so I agreed.

Not long after, a neighbor pulled me aside. “I don’t want to be a busybody,” she’d said, “but that new nanny of yours seems a little… overly friendly with Mark. Just be careful.”

I nodded and thanked her, but I didn’t take it seriously. Mark and I were college sweethearts. We’d built a life together. If he wanted to cheat, he’d had countless opportunities with women far more impressive than a twenty-year-old nanny.

But I never imagined the nanny’s target wasn’t my husband, but my daughter.

Thinking back, Sophie’s coldness towards me started right after Jenna arrived.

A sharp, violent pain radiated from my abdomen, shattering my thoughts. There was no more time to think. I fumbled for my phone, my fingers slick with sweat, and dialed 911 myself.

Then, everything went black.