Chapter 8
The nanny candidate had already been interviewed.
Without me.
I brought her in.
Young.
Professional.
Clearly uncomfortable.
“Tove said you approved the position.”
“I didn’t.”
Her face drained.
“What were you told?”
“That Mireya needed behavioral boundaries.”
“Regarding?”
“Attention-seeking.”
My jaw tightened.
“Breathing episodes?”
The nanny hesitated.
“Yes.”
There.
Tove had preloaded the interpretation.
Before the woman even met my child.
Any breathing difficulty becomes performance.
Any request for Margaret becomes manipulation.
Any crying becomes dependency.
The narrative was ready before the child arrived.
“What else?”
The nanny opened her notes.
“No inhaler unless symptoms continue beyond—”
“Stop.”
She did.
I did not need the rest.
Tove had created her own protocol.
No doctor.
No physician.
No qualified person.
Just Tove.
I looked at her.
“Did you question that?”
“Yes.”
Good.
“What happened?”
“She said the current family is overprotective.”
Current family.
Interesting phrase.
“Meaning?”
The nanny looked toward the door.
“She said after the wedding, things would be different.”
Of course.
Everything after the wedding.
Always future tense.
The ring had been permission in her imagination.
I dismissed the nanny without blame.
Then I looked at Tove.
“You planned to train a stranger not to believe my daughter.”
She stared.
“I planned to stop reinforcing anxiety.”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“You planned to make sure anyone Mireya asked for help would first wonder if she was lying.”
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That was worse than hiding an inhaler.
It taught the whole house not to trust her.
