She sighs. “I’ve missed so much.”
“Don’t miss any more. Show her you want to know her, that she’s the most important thing in the world to you.”
She nods softly, then takes a deep breath and pushes to her feet. “While I wish none of this happened, I suppose it’s been the wake-up call I needed.”
“I wish I could have prevented it,” I say, guilty about my part in this mess.
“You tried your best and protected Bella. I suppose… if you need a reference, you may list me.”
That means more than she knows. I literally have nothing right now. Nowhere to go. Nothing left to my name. Both the real one and fake one. I’ll need all the help I can get. “Thank you.”
“All right,” she says, snapping out of her reverie. “Clean out your room. Your final check will be in the mail.”
I nod and turn away. As I head up the stairs, I hear her excusing Soren with a slightly less polite tone.
I hurry up the stairs before I can see the pity in his eyes.
My room is just how I left it—about as sparse as my ransacked room in my apartment.
My phone sits on top of my bed. Soren must have put it there. I power it on, ignoring the endless pinging of messages from my devil roommate as I pack my bag with three pairs of clothes and underwear. My bathroom bag, my extra shoes, socks, and fuzzy blanket. At least I’ll have something when I get home.
I slip on my shoes and look at myself in the mirror above the dresser. So this is it. This is how I end. With exactly what I started with.
“Hey.” Bella appears in the door, and I’m reminded I have more than I started with. Much more.
“Hey.” A tear slips down my cheek, and a matching one appears on Bella’s cheek. She rushes forward, plastering herself to my front, wrapping her tiny arms around my waist.
“Don’t leave me,” she whispers.
My heart breaks. Actually shatters right in two. “I don’t have a choice.”
“I know.” She sighs. “You’re a‘bad example to my impressionable mind.’”
I laugh at her impression of Mrs. Hartwell.
“It’s like she’s never met me before.”
“She just wants the best for you,” I say.
She pouts her bottom lip. “I won’t be nice to any other nanny.”
“Oh, you were being nice to me with the tarantula in my bed, huh?”
“Classic.” She giggles.
I squeeze her tight, one last time. “You’re going to be marvelous, Bella. You are smart and creative. You’re going to accomplish every dream and live big and unafraid. Okay?”
She shrugs, unaffected by the worries of the future as only a nine-year-old can be. “I’m going to miss you.”
She mutters the words so softly I almost miss them.
“Excuse me.” I clap a hand to my chest dramatically. “What did you just say? Did you just express emotion? For me?” I nudge her side, and she rolls her eyes.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” She skirts around the dresser, walking her fingers down the side, to the crack in the far side, and tipping out the rolled-up paper. “Don’t forget this.” She looks at me, with big, all-knowing eyes.
A weight settles in my stomach. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
“It’s okay.” She picks up my hand and puts the rolled-up paper on top.
