Billie wore a yellow dress with crooked tights. Her curls had been brushed into temporary submission, though they were already beginning to reclaim territory around her face.
Bianca’s navy cardigan was buttoned all the way up, and she held a book against her chest with both hands like she expected moral judgment at any moment.
CJ had voluntarily tucked in his shirt.
I stopped pacing long enough to look at them. “Okay,” I said. “One more time.”
Three faces looked back at me.
“You need to be polite.”
“We’re polite,” CJ said.
“You need to listen.”
“We do listen,” Bianca said.
“You need to not psychologically dismantle another childcare professional.”
Billie raised her hand. “What if we do it by accident?”
“No accidents. Guys, I mean it. This woman could really help us.”
The kids exchanged glances.
“We know,” CJ said softly.
I exhaled slowly and crouched so I was at eye level with Billie. “I’m not asking you to be different people.”
“Good, because I already practiced being this one,” she said.
I exhaled heavily. “I’m simply asking you to try.”
Billie considered that with enormous seriousness, then she nodded. “Okay.”
CJ tilted his head. “Do you think she’ll know about the attic?”
I stared at him. “You still won’t even tellmewhat happened in the attic.”
“It’s healthier for everyone that you don’t know.”
Before I could respond to that, the grandfather clock near the sitting room ticked over to ten fifty-eight. Two minutes. My stomach tightened, which was ridiculous. This was a nanny interview. I had absolutely nothing to be nervous about.
Outside, clouds drifted slowly across the morning sun. The light dimmed across the foyer windows, the bright spring gold softening into gray.
Billie looked toward the front door. “Did it get spooky outside?”
“No,” Bianca said immediately. “Cloud coverage is normal atmospheric behavior.”
“It feels haunted.”
“Everything feels haunted to you.”
“That’s because I have imagination.”
CJ wandered toward the window and peeked through the curtain. “Maybe she’s ugly.”
“CJ,” I said.
