The suite takes up nearly half of the second floor. Once inside, it splits into his-and-hers sides. Which makes sense now, considering their marital conflict.
“Don’t touch anything, and stay right beside me,” I tell Soren.
He salutes me and does as told.
“Bella?” I call out.
Silence.
I try a few more times, hoping to put off entering the rooms, but still nothing.
“I didn’t think that would work.” I sigh.
I turn right, unsure of whose set of rooms I’m about to enter. The grand door opens into a room set with deep mahogany wood and dark green accents. Mr. Hartwell.
There’s a small sitting room around a faux fireplace, a dark wood coffee table, and an impressive video game setup with multiple screens on the wall and five different controllers. We check the sitting room, then move through the doorway to the bedroom. A pair of Rolexes sit on top of the armoire, and I catch Soren eyeing them.
“Don’t even think about it.”
He puts his palms in the air with mock offense. “I was simply observing.”
“Uh-huh.”
I check under the bed, then the walk-in closet and large spa bathroom. Still no Bella.
I lead the way across the small corridor to the next set of rooms.
Bright white and cream make up the interior of these rooms.
“They couldn’t be more different,” Soren muses.
I wouldn’t know. I’ve only met Mrs. Hartwell. I’ve caught glimpses of Mr. Hartwell, and he’s always engaged with his phone, completely unaware of the world around him. Which annoys me, because his daughter is in that world.
Mrs. Hartwell is strict but civil on the few occasions she deigns to communicate with me. As long as Bella made it to all her many lessons and classes and didn’t wind up in trouble, she was content with my services.
Services.
That makes my role in Bella’s life seem so insignificant. She needs more than just me. She needs her parents.
This sitting room is light and airy with bouquets of cream and white flowers on multiple surfaces. The couch looks comfortable—a place Mrs. Hartwell may actually relax.
But it’s empty of a teary-eyed nine-year-old.
The bedroom is another layer of cream and white. In the center of the giant bed is Bella.
Her big watery eyes meet mine, her cheeks red from crying. “They left me.”
I don’t have the heart to tell her she played a role in that, because that’s not how she sees it. She was testing them, looking for confirmation they loved her, and they let her down.
I sit beside her, and she cuddles into me, laying her head on my lap. “I’m sorry, baby,” I whisper, brushing the tear soaked hair off her forehead.
I don’t know what to tell her. I know they love her, but they do a terrible job of showing it.
Soren is standing suspiciously close to the jewelry box on the armoire until I look up at him for reinforcement.
He drops onto the end of the bed. “It’s messed up,” he says.
I try to shoot him a “not helping” look, but he avoids my eyes.
