CHAPTER 2 — THE SILENCE IN THE NURSERY
The nursery was larger than the apartment Liana had lost after Samuel’s funeral.
Soft blue walls surrounded a white crib carved with silver stars. Shelves were filled with toys Nico was too young to touch. Near the window stood a rocking chair that looked as though no one had sat in it for weeks.
Liana sat there with the baby held beneath a clean blanket.
The physician, Dr. Hale, examined Nico while trying not to stare at her.
Matteo stood near the door.
He had changed into a black shirt, but exhaustion still marked his face. His jaw remained tight, as though he expected disaster to return the moment he relaxed.
“When did he last eat properly?” Liana asked.
“Yesterday morning,” Dr. Hale answered.
Liana looked at Matteo.
“You waited this long?”
His expression hardened.
“Three nurses tried. Two specialists came from the city. He rejected them all.”
“He wasn’t rejecting them.”
“Then what was he doing?”
“Grieving.”
Matteo’s face changed.
It was only a flicker, but Liana saw it.
Dr. Hale quietly packed his instruments.
“Nico’s mother died eight days after he was born,” he explained. “Since then, his condition has worsened.”
“How?”
Matteo answered this time.
“Car accident.”
The words sounded rehearsed.
Liana looked at the untouched rocking chair.
“Did she sit there?”
Matteo’s gaze followed hers.
“Yes.”
Nico made a soft sound and pressed closer to Liana.
“Babies remember more than people think,” she said. “A heartbeat. A smell. The way someone holds them.”
“You smell like his mother?”
“No. I smell like milk.”
Matteo flinched at her bluntness.
Liana lowered her voice.
“He doesn’t think I’m her. He only knows that for the first time in days, his body feels safe.”
Dr. Hale cleared his throat.
“He needs regular feedings. Mrs. Bell can prepare a room for Ms. Graves.”
Liana looked up.
“I didn’t agree to stay.”
Matteo crossed the nursery.
“My son needs you.”
“I came looking for work, not ownership.”
“No one owns anyone in this house.”
The guard at the doorway lowered his eyes.
Liana noticed.
“So I can leave?”
“Yes.”
“With my suitcase?”
“Yes.”
“And no one follows me?”
Matteo hesitated one second too long.
Liana almost laughed.
“You’re not used to being questioned.”
“I’m not used to strangers entering my home and giving orders.”
“I’m not giving orders. I’m setting terms.”
Matteo looked at Nico.
The child’s breathing had finally become deep and even.
“One week,” Matteo said. “You remain here for one week. You feed him, help him sleep, and tell Dr. Hale what he needs.”
“And after one week?”
“You decide whether to stay.”
“Payment?”
“Name your price.”
“I want a room with a lock on the inside. I want food without having to ask. I want Sundays free to visit my son’s grave.”
Matteo’s eyes narrowed.
“That’s all?”
“No.”
Liana carefully stood.
“I want everyone in this house to understand that I am an employee. Not a prisoner. Not your property. And not a woman who can be threatened into silence.”
The room became still.
Matteo was not a man people spoke to that way.
But Nico stirred in her arms.
Liana began rocking him gently.
Matteo looked at his son, then back at her.
“Agreed.”
Mrs. Bell, the elderly housekeeper, appeared in the hallway.
She carried Liana’s suitcase.
“Your room is ready.”
Liana followed her toward the door.
Behind her, Matteo spoke.
“Ms. Graves.”
She turned.
For the first time, his voice had lost its authority.
“If he starts crying again…”
“I’ll hear him.”
That night, Liana slept in a warm bed for the first time in months.
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At 2:13 in the morning, Nico began to cry.
Before Liana could open her door, she heard Matteo running through the hallway.
