Chapter 5
1139 Words
Amara barely had time to breathe since she arrived. Her first day as Seraphina Rivera’s nanny was filled with observations, quiet notes in her notebook, and reading every little cue from the shy little girl who preferred hiding behind her father than speaking a word. But one moment had lingered in Amara’s mind since breakfast.
That small whisper from Seraphina: “Milk makes my tummy rumble. It makes me want to poopoo.” No one else caught it—too busy laughing or sipping espresso. But Amara didn’t forget.
Damien instantly called his secretary, “Call Dr. Velasquez. I want him to be here tomorrow, and clear my schedule the whole day.”
The next day, the mansion’s energy shifted. Dr. Velasquez, the family’s private physician, arrived with two nurses and a suitcase full of pediatric test kits. The once-cold dining hall transformed into a temporary clinic.
Seraphina clung to Damien’s leg, eyes wide.
“I don’t want any pokes,” she whispered.
Amara knelt beside her. “It’s okay, sweetie. No big pokes, just little tests. You’re a brave princess, right?”
Seraphina blinked, hesitant. Then she nodded.
The tests began with gentle, non-invasive methods. Blood was drawn carefully, and then small patches of potential allergens were applied to her skin. Through it all, Amara stayed beside her, telling soft stories about animals and stars.
By the afternoon, the results came in.
Dr. Velasquez looked grave as he spoke to Damien in the study, Amara seated nearby.
“She is indeed lactose intolerant, Damien. That explains the digestive discomfort.”
Damien stared at the floor.
“There’s more,” the doctor added. “She’s not dangerously allergic, but she does have mild allergies to peanut butter, eggs, and honey, Repeated exposure won’t kill her, but it’s been causing subtle inflammation. Fatigue, irritability, skin sensitivity. Things easy to miss unless you’re watching closely.”
Damien covered his mouth with his hand. Amara could see the storm brewing in his eyes.
“She eats those every day,” he muttered. “Her cereal... her snacks... her cookies...”
He stood and walked to the window, fists clenched. “Her mother would have noticed. She always watched what Sera ate. But after she died, I was juggling the business, security, the estate... God, I didn’t even think to question the menu.”
“You’re not to blame, Sir.” Amara said softly. “You were surviving. Grief does things to people. What matters is that she’s safe now, and you cared enough to listen.”
He turned, his eyes red. “You noticed in day one.”
Amara lowered her gaze. “It’s my job to notice, but more than that... I care about her.”
The silence between them carried more than words. Damien exhaled and gave her a rare smile.
“Thank you, Amara. For seeing what I couldn’t.”
She nodded, eyes misty.
That night, the entire kitchen pantry was reorganized. The chefs received a new list of approved foods. Almond milk replaced dairy, and snacks were reviewed line by line.
As for Seraphina, she felt better instantly, Her smiles grew a little wider, and even her energy levels changed. Damien watched her running in the garden, chasing butterflies. Then he turned to Amara, who stood nearby, scribbling notes again.
He didn’t say anything.
But he knew. She wasn’t just a nanny.
She was a gift they didn’t know they needed.
"I hope, she won't quit anytime soon."
----
The night had grown quiet in the Rivera mansion. The silence was occasionally interrupted by the rustling of leaves outside and the distant humming of staff moving about, finishing the last of their duties. Amara sat by her small writing table, a cup of lukewarm tea by her side, as she scribbled into her small notebook. The pages had become a journal of sorts, filled with neat bullet points and small observations, details about Seraphina that only someone who truly cared would notice.
Favorite food: strawberry jam sandwich.
Color she always picks: lavender.
Likes bedtime stories but only if read in a low voice.
Still prefers Damien to tuck her in.
Amara smiled softly at the notes. She had been with Seraphina for a short time, but she could already tell that the girl wasn’t hard to love. Quiet and a little withdrawn, yes, but not difficult. Seraphina was polite, observant, and extremely sensitive. She didn’t speak much unless Damien was around, but Amara understood. The child had gone through too much too young.
"She just needs time," Amara whispered to herself, shutting the notebook.
She stood up and stretched, glancing at the clock. It was close to midnight. She decided to check on Seraphina before settling in. As she approached the little girl’s room, she noticed the main door slightly ajar. Her brows furrowed. That door was always shut at night.
Just as she reached out to pull it closed, her eyes caught a soft glint near the top of the stairs—a small, plush rabbit toy lying sideways on the floor. Sera's toy. Her heart skipped.
If someone steps on that...
She moved quickly, walking down the hallway toward the toy. She bent down and carefully picked it up.
That was when the first bang hit.
A loud, sharp sound echoed through the mansion. It wasn't a door slam. It wasn't thunder. It was something deeper, violent.
A gunshot.
Amara froze.
Her breath caught. Her limbs stiffened. She had never heard one in real life, but it was unmistakable.
Then came the second shot.
Panic surged through her. Her thoughts scattered in every direction. Instinct took over. She clutched the rabbit tightly and sprinted back toward Seraphina's room.
Her feet barely touched the carpet as she lunged into the room and slammed the door behind her, locking it. Her hands trembled, heart pounding so loud she could hear it in her ears.
Seraphina stirred in her bed.
"What's happening?" the small voice asked groggily. "Is daddy, playing again?"
Panicked, Amara immediately rushed to her side. "Shhh, it's okay, sweetheart. It’s okay. I'm here."
She wrapped her arms around Seraphina, who clung to her tightly. She could feel the child’s confusion. She wasn't scared, though she was confused and now trying not to cry.
Amara's own heart was racing, but she kept her voice calm. She couldn’t let Seraphina feel that fear.
"Stay with me, okay? We're going to be just fine. I promise."
Another sound echoed in the distance, this time not a shot, but the sound of footsteps running. Muffled yells followed.
Amara sat with her back to the door, holding Seraphina protectively. Her mind was racing, thinking of the best thing to do. She needed answers. But more than that, she needed to keep Seraphina safe.
"Oh please, oh Lord! ... Please... Protect us."
- Writer
