Chapter 7
Mireya told me about Bunny that night.
A stuffed rabbit.
Old.
One ear missing half its stuffing.
Her mother’s gift before she died.
Tove had hidden it three times.
“Why?”
Mireya shrugged.
“She says babies need Bunny.”
“And you?”
“I’m big.”
Three.
Big.
Of course.
I found Bunny inside a locked guest closet.
Not thrown away.
Placed beside other things Tove had removed.
Mireya’s favorite blanket.
Margaret’s framed photograph with the child.
The emergency nebulizer mask.
I stared.
A collection.
Everything that represented comfort, illness, or attachment.
All labeled by Tove as dependency.
Margaret touched the blanket.
“She was stripping the room.”
“Yes.”
Preparing Mireya for what?
I asked staff.
One housekeeper finally answered.
“Ms. Mercer said after the wedding, Mireya was moving to the east nursery.”
My expression changed.
The east nursery was on another floor.
Far from my bedroom.
Far from Margaret’s suite.
“Who would stay with her?”
Silence.
“Tove?”
No.
A new nanny.
Selected by Tove.
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because the entire structure was obvious now.
Remove pouch.
Remove grandmother.
Remove comfort objects.
Move child.
Replace caregiver.
Call it growing up.
May you like
Tove had been building a private system around my daughter.
And she intended to activate it the moment the ring became a marriage.
