BOUND TO HER LIGHT

CHAPTER 7

The morning began with a war over shoes.

“Maxen, we can’t go if you throw them again,” Isla pleaded, crouched on the nursery floor as the two-year-old clung stubbornly to the couch cushion. His tiny fingers had a surprisingly strong grip for someone his size. The shoes in question lay under the table where he’d tossed them with a triumphant squeal.

“No shoes,” Maxen muttered with the finality of a king passing judgment.

Evie, sitting cross-legged on the rug, scowled. “I don’t like new people,” she announced, arms crossed tight. “They look at you funny.”

Isla bit back a sigh. Her second day at the Duván Manor and she was already battling two tiny storms with chubby cheeks and wide, suspicious eyes. Mrs. Hills appeared in the doorway like a well-timed specter, lips pressed into a single disapproving line.

“The children must be back before five, Miss Barlow,” she reminded coolly. “Mr. Duván doesn’t tolerate delays.”

The words carried weight, like everything in this house did. Isla nodded quickly, finally retrieving Maxen’s shoes as if they were live grenades.

It was nearly half an hour before the children were wrangled into the car with Arthur, the stone-faced driver, glancing at his watch like every minute was an offense to his schedule.

The ride started with Maxen wailing because Isla had forgotten his favorite sippy cup. Evie, quieter now, watched the city slide by outside the window. After a long silence, she whispered, almost to herself,

“Do we have to come back?”

Isla froze.

Evie didn’t look at her, eyes fixed on the passing blur of streets.

“Of course,” Isla said softly. “This is your home.”

Evie didn’t answer, just hugged her small backpack closer.

The reading circle at the library began well enough.

Maxen toddled straight to a corner where a service dog was napping, announcing loudly, “Doggie!” before petting the startled animal’s tail. Evie sat stiffly at first, but when the storyteller started reading The Runaway Kite, she interrupted with questions about why the kite didn’t just fly to another country instead.

Some of the other parents chuckled. Isla smiled in relief. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad..

Until it wasn’t.

During the craft session, a boy with spiky hair snatched the crayon Evie was using.

“Hey!” she shouted, shoving him hard enough that he toppled backward.

Gasps went up around the table.

“Where is this child’s guardian?” the boy’s mother demanded, marching over to Isla. “You can’t let her act like this!”

Isla jumped to her feet, face flushing. “I...I’m sorry, she didn’t...”

But Evie cut her off, voice breaking, “I hate this place! I want my mom!”

The room fell silent. The boy sniffled on the floor. Evie’s eyes were bright with tears.

Isla’s chest twisted. She knelt, gathering the girl close as Maxen started crying because everyone was loud now. People stared. Some with pity. Some with irritation.

She wanted to disappear.

After the chaos, Isla skipped the rest of the craft session and took the kids to the park nearby. Evie refused to talk at first, swinging slowly on the swings, while Maxen clung to Isla’s dress, thumb in his mouth.

Isla crouched beside Evie.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Evie shook her head, eyes fixed on the sky.

Isla didn’t push. Instead, she just sat with them, the three of them a quiet little island amid laughing children and barking dogs.

She wondered if Gabriel knew how much hurt his children carried.

She wondered if he even cared.

They returned to Duván Manor just as the sun dipped lower, the car rolling up the long driveway with the weight of the afternoon pressing on Isla’s shoulders.

Gabriel Duván stood at the front steps.

He didn’t move as Arthur opened the car door. His gaze slid over Evie’s puffy eyes, Maxen’s sticky hands, Isla’s wrinkled dress.

“What happened?” His voice was low. Too calm.

Isla’s throat went dry. How did you explain tantrums and loneliness and crayon battles in one breath?

She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

Gabriel didn’t wait for an answer. His expression didn’t change as he turned toward the door.

“Dinner. Five. Don’t be late.”

The words snapped like orders in the air before he disappeared inside.

Isla stood there for a long moment, holding Maxen’s hand while Evie pressed against her side, and realized this job was going to be harder than she’d ever imagined.