The pale light of morning did nothing to lift the heavy dark inside the house, and the memory of his daughter's fear had strengthened his choice.
He needed to act. He needed to find someone, anybody, who could reach Gabriella and give the support and link that he couldn't.
When Kendrick arrived at seven o'clock, he was already in his study, making a new pot of coffee. Kendrick, always the image of calm speed, carried a stack of newspapers.
"Good morning," Kendrick whispered with a faint hum. He put the papers on Kinneth 's desk. "I have sped up the security review. We'll change the team every eight hours, and I'll be responsible for installing additional thermal cameras around the boundaries. No one will approach within a hundred feet of these walls without our knowledge.
Kinneth nodded, his eyes flashing with respect. Thank you, Kendrick. "I understand the urgency." The unsaid fear of Ryder Davies, or any leftover cloud from his past, sat heavily between them.
"About the nanny search," Kendrick said, changing gears with seasoned ease. "The service has given you a new list based on your changed criteria. They promise me that these prospects have been properly checked."
Kinneth sat back in his chair with a cool, critical look in his eyes. "My ideals stay exactly as stated. Capable of handling a kid with particular social needs. Someone who understands the important need for caution. And, most importantly, someone who offers no danger to our set plans."
He paused, his face hardened. "No personal entanglements." There are no personal links beyond the work. "Is that clear?"
Kendrick's look was unclear. "It's crystal clear, Kinneth . They understand that you need a complete business relationship. A live in babysitter, basically."
"Essentially," Kinneth repeated, the word tasting like ash in his tongue. He was looking for a human answer, a capable expert to repair the damaged parts of his daughter's surroundings, not a partner for himself. His heart was a closed vault, guarded against future invasions.
He chose the first folder from the stack Kendrick had offered. Candidate A. Eleanor Vance. Her qualifications were impressive, twenty years of experience, a track record of success with high profile families, and positive feedback on her strict yet successful techniques. She sounded like a drill sergeant wearing a silk dress.
Kinneth read aloud "Eleanor Vance," with a critical tone. "Sounds… formidable."
"She's highly recommended for children who require a firm hand and a structured environment," Kendrick told me.
Kinneth snorted. "Gabriella does not need a hard hand. She needs to connect. And I doubt 'formidable' is the trait that would drive her to open up." He threw the book aside. "Next."
Candidate B: Marcus Finch. A guy babysitter. Kinneth lifted an eyebrow. It is rare but not unheard of. Finch has practice in healing play and outdoor learning.
"He specializes in children who express themselves in nonverbal ways," Kendrick added. "Could be beneficial for Gabriella's withdrawn nature."
Kinneth studied it and then shook his head. "No. I need someone who can provide a caring presence. Given recent events, showing a male figure may be difficult.
No." He fired Finch. The thought of another male presence, especially one who may stir memories for Gabriella, was uncomfortable.
The following few options were similarly unfit. Too young, naive, eager to impress, or, opposite, world weary. He studied their features in the photos, looking for a spark, a hint of anything beyond the wellnmade qualifications.
He was looking for an angel, a healer, and a friend all in one who could work strictly within the limits of a contract. He knew it was an impossible request, but despair left him with no other choices.
"Do these agencies even listen to my specific needs?" Kinneth mumbled, dissatisfaction oozing through his voice. "I need control, Kendrick. Complete, unwavering secrecy. "Someone who understands the sensitivity of our situation."
"They are fully briefed on the need for discretion, Kinneth ," Kendrick told him, his tone calm. "They're aware of your, unique circumstances." The unsaid words hovered in the air, your shameful past and public disgrace.
Kinneth grimaced. "They have no mental baggage of their own. I don't
need anybody bringing their own problems into my place. Gabriella needs security, not more uncertainties."
He took up the folder he had studied the night before, one that had caught his interest despite his careful attitude. Morran Oscar is the name of candidate F. Her face, even in the professional picture, had a unique mix of softness and quiet power. He reread her statement.
"Each baby has their own world inside them, sometimes accompanied by quiet stars. My goal is to help people explore the stars and find their light, no matter how faint it seems."
"Morran Oscar," he continued, his tone serious. "Her training in child development and the claim. "It's different."
Kendrick nodded. "Indeed, she shines out. She has a good track record of dealing with children in tough mental states. Her recommendations respect her kind but tough approach, as well as her ability to build trust."
He paused. "Her agency says that the gap in her work was due to looking for an ill family member." They swear she is completely focused on her job right now."
Kinneth narrowed his eyes, a flash of his normal doubt returning. "An sick family member. Convenient. Have you checked this?"
"As much as possible without being overly intrusive," Kendrick said. "The reasons are private, but her previous bosses confirmed her leave and later returned to the field. There are no warning signs, except from the usual privacy worries of someone who does not want to share every personal information."
"And discretion?" Kinneth pressed. "Does she understand the nature of this household?" "What about media sensitivity?"
"She's been fully briefed," Kendrick said. "She understands the need of a very quiet setting. She signed a thorough non disclosure deal before her picture was ever submitted to us."
Kinneth 's attention rested on Morran's picture. Her eyes had a depth to them that hinted at her problems, maybe even a quiet sadness. He often dodged such people, seeing them as possible risks.
However, for Gabriella, that understanding a shared knowledge of loss was exactly what was needed. He had built tall walls to keep people out, but it may have taken someone who knew walls to cross them fully.
"Alright," Kinneth said with tired confidence in his voice. "Schedule her interview for this morning. Ten o'clock, as planned. Kendrick, I'd want you to give. "And Mrs. Gable."
"As you wish," Kendrick said, quickly touching his iPad to complete the plans. "Just remember, Kinneth . Your mental limits. You kept them for a reason. Don't let your daughter's wants overshadow the lessons from your past.
Kinneth took another look at Morran Oscar's shot. Her soft grin seemed to test his doubts, offering a kindness he hadn't experienced in years. He felt a small, quite unnoticeable tremble in his well built defenses.
It was a scary feeling, a little break in the thick wall that surrounded his heart. He understood, with troubling certainty, that this interview would be more than merely judging a maid, it would be a test of the basic foundations of his lonely life.
As Kendrick left the study to finish his preparations, Kinneth found himself walking to the window and looking out at the vast, still shadowed grounds.
Gabriella's dangerous situation, Ryder Davies' constant worry, and now the scary possibility that Morran Oscar may be more than simply a professional answer. His past had taught him that weakness meant death. However, his daughter's quiet was kind of like death.
He sketched the shape of a faraway oak tree, its branches reaching like twisted fingers into the sky. He wanted a castle of privacy, but what he built was a golden jail.
And now he was going to allow a stranger in. A stranger who may be either the key to their escape or the end, crushing blow. He looked at his phone, where a notice showed as a reminder of the coming interview.
His hands were instantly moist. He wasn't just looking for a helper, he was looking for hope. He knew that hope was the most damaging feeling of all.
He took a long breath, the air in the hushed home heavy with unsaid worry. The clock in the hallway chimed nine times. There is one hour till Morran Oscar comes.
One hour till the defenses he'd carefully built would meet their most difficult test yet. And Kinneth Cook, the man who trusted no one, felt a weird, unpleasant interest rise inside him, forming a dangerous question in the peaceful isolation of his mind. What if she was the one person who could see through the fortress he had become?