My Cupcake Nanny

Episode2

CHAPTER TWO

ELIZA’S P.O.V – Silent Pains

“Why are you not listening to me?!” I shouted, yanking my arm from the officer’s grip.

His fingers had been digging into my wrist so tightly that I thought I’d bruise. I wasn’t the type to scream, but at that moment, I had never wanted to punch someone so badly in my life.

“I swear, I’m here for the job vacancy posted outside the mall,” I cried out, raising my cuffed hands as if that would prove anything. “Please... I didn’t do anything wrong.”

I looked around, my heart was pounding. People were staring. Some even whispered. Others just watched in silence, judging me with their eyes. All I wanted was to find a job,something small to support my brother, Georgie, but somehow, I ended up being treated like a criminal.

“She said she’s here for the job,” one officer muttered to the other.

The second one just shook his head. “Maybe she’ll get the chance to explain herself at the station.”

He pulled the back door of the police car open and gestured for me to get in.

I bit my lip and looked around one more time, hoping someone, atleast anyone would step up and speak for me. But no one did.

At the station, I sat stiffly on a cold metal bench, the cuffs were gone now but the sting of the moment still fresh. My hands were folded tightly in my lap. I didn’t move my head, but my eyes scanned the empty environment in front of me. The walls were dull. The lights were faintly above. The air was thick and stale.

I blinked quickly. The tears were close, far too close.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I had hidden it there during the arrest. My face turned left and right now as quickly took slid it out when the officers weren’t looking.

And there it was, ten missed calls. All from the hospital.

My heart dropped.

The reason I even went to the mall today was to apply for a part-time job at the new bookstore that had just opened. I saw the “Help Wanted” sign and rushed in, thinking I’d get lucky.

But just as I stepped in, three little kids I had seen earlier near the food court suddenly ran toward me, crying and scared. Before I could ask what was wrong, they clung to me, literally grabbed onto my legs and waist.

I didn’t know what else to do. I knelt down, hugged them close, and asked what happened.

That’s when their father came rushing in, the same man from earlier. The same arrogant jerk who didn’t even say thank you when I saved his kids from a moving car two weeks ago. That same man pointed at me, yelling that I was trying to kidnap his children?

Next thing I knew, the mall security had pinned me to a wall. I was cuffed. The cops came.

And now, the flyjng news, attempted abduction. Are you kidding me?

I rested my head in my hands, finally letting a tear fall. I didn’t have time for this drama. Not today.

My phone buzzed again.

A message came up the screen, "Your brother’s condition is worsening."

I squeezed my eyes shut. Please, God. Not now.

Two weeks ago, I had been in the bakery where I worked part-time. My hands were covered in flour and dough as I kneaded the bread mixture with force, each punch matching the stress inside me.

“Eliza,” a voice called. “Your phone’s been ringing nonstop.”

It was Iris, one of the bakery assistants. She walked in holding the buzzing phone.

“Thanks,” I muttered, wiping my hands on my apron before picking up the call.

“Eliza!... George… Geor—!” My grandmother’s voice cracked through the speaker.

“Grandma?” I asked quickly, my heart jumping. “Why are you crying?”

Before she could answer, the TV in the corner of the bakery blared up. A news anchor was speaking.

“Breaking News. A sudden earthquake has struck the Ireland area. Major damage has occurred in schools, hospitals, and homes. Authorities have reported casualties and severe injuries. Rescue operations are ongoing…”

I stood still, my heart sinking. Georgie’s school… was in Ireland.

“Oh no…” I whispered. My hands started trembling. “Georgie…”

“Eliza,” Grandma cried again through the phone, “I tried, I tried to get him. But the building collapsed…”

I didn’t wait to hear more.

The moment the words "hospital" and "Georgie" settled in my ears, it was like my heart stopped beating for a second. My hands trembled as they fumbled with the tie of my apron. My breath hitched, my chest tightening with panic. I yanked the apron strings loose, roughly, carelessly, feeling the fabric catch at my waist before finally slipping off. I tossed it onto the nearest counter, not even checking where it landed.

My legs moved on their own. I stumbled backward from the baking table, knocking over a small bowl of flour that spilled in a cloud across the floor. Iris shouted something behind me, probably about the mess or the dough order or some other thing that no longer mattered to me.

I didn’t turn back.

I dashed straight for the door, my sneakers slipping slightly on the tiled floor, my bag bouncing at my side as I ran. My phone was clenched tightly in my hand, the screen still glowing from the last call.

All I could think about was Georgie. His small smile. His soft curls. His tiny voice called my name when he couldn’t sleep at night.

“Iris, I have to go!” I shouted.

“Eliza! What about the dough order?” Iris asked, confused, holding out a baking pan.

“I said NOT NOW!” I yelled, already pushing open the exit.

The image of collapsed buildings from the news flash burned in my mind. The way the news anchor had said “lives lost” kept repeating in my head like a broken song. My hands pushed the door open with more force than I intended, making the bell above jingle harshly.

The world outside felt too bright, too loud. But I didn’t stop to adjust. I didn’t care.

I needed to get to the hospital.

I needed to get to Georgie.

And I needed to get there now.

Now here I am… sitting on a cold, metal bench at the police station, surrounded by blank walls, buzzing lights, and the faint hum of printers and muffled conversations.

And all I could think about was Georgie.

My little brother.

Lying in some hospital bed, hooked to machines. Alone and scared. Possibly dying.

My heart ached so bad I could barely breathe. It felt like something sharp was lodged in my chest, and no matter how I shifted or sat, it wouldn’t go away.

Tears slid down my cheeks, silent and heavy.

I wiped them away fast with the back of my hand, over and over, hoping no one noticed. The last thing I needed was one of those officers looking at me with pity. I didn’t want their sympathy. I wanted my brother. I wanted answers. I wanted this nightmare to stop.

But all I had was silence.

I wrapped my arms around myself and rocked gently, trying to calm the storm rising inside me.

I squeezed my eyes shut and leaned my head back against the wall, trying not to cry again.

A young officer walked in, holding a clipboard. His uniform was neat, and his voice was calm, but I didn’t trust calm voices anymore.

“Miss Kane?” he said.

I sat up quickly. “Yes?”

“You’re free to go,” he said, clearing his throat. “There’s been… a change.”

I blinked, confused. “A change? What do you mean?”

“The complainant, Mr. Del Crov withdrew the charges. He said it was all a misunderstanding.”

My jaw dropped. “He what?”