Chapter 3 - MEGAN DIDN’T QUIT
Megan Cole answered on the fourth ring.
“Hello?”
Daniel almost hung up.
Not because he was afraid.
Because he suddenly understood how strange the call would sound.
“Is this Megan Cole?”
“Yes.”
“This is Daniel Brooks.”
Silence.
A long silence.
Then:
“Why are you calling me?”
The tone surprised him.
Not nervous.
Angry.
Daniel looked at Natalie across the office.
She had insisted he make the call himself.
Evelyn believed Daniel was reviewing investment papers upstairs.
For the first time in years, he had not informed his house manager what he was doing.
“I’m calling about Lucas.”
Another silence.
“Is he okay?”
The speed of the question told Daniel more than any employment document.
“He’s safe.”
Megan exhaled.
“How is he?”
“Five.”
“I know how old he is.”
Daniel almost smiled.
“He remembers you.”
The line became quiet.
“Does he?”
“Yes.”
Megan’s voice softened.
“I think about him all the time.”
Daniel looked at the resignation file.
“You wrote that your emotional attachment was interfering with professional boundaries.”
Megan said nothing.
“Megan?”
“I never wrote that.”
Daniel’s eyes hardened.
“You signed a resignation form.”
“No.”
“I have it.”
“Then somebody forged my name.”
Natalie slowly sat down.
Daniel kept his voice controlled.
“You were fired?”
“Yes.”
“By whom?”
“You really don’t know.”
It was not a question.
Daniel stared toward the office doors.
“Tell me.”
“Evelyn Hart.”
He felt no surprise.
That frightened him.
“Why?”
“Because Lucas started asking for me when he had nightmares.”
Daniel’s hand tightened around the phone.
“That was grounds for termination?”
“She said I was encouraging dependency.”
“What did you say?”
“I said he was three years old and his mother had died.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Megan continued.
“She said the Brooks household required professional distance.”
“That sounds like her.”
“It got worse.”
Daniel opened his eyes.
“How?”
“She told me Lucas’s outbursts were manipulation.”
“He was three.”
“I know.”
Her anger sharpened.
“She wanted us to leave the room when he cried.”
Daniel’s face changed.
Natalie saw it.
“She said attention rewarded bad behavior.”
“What happened?”
“I stopped following the instruction.”
Daniel felt sick.
“Then?”
“One night Lucas woke up screaming for his mother.”
Megan’s voice cracked.
“I held him until he fell asleep.”
Daniel looked down at the desk.
“Evelyn saw me.”
“What did she do?”
“Fired me the next morning.”
Daniel remained still.
“I tried to contact you.”
His eyes lifted.
“How?”
“Email.”
“I never received it.”
“Three emails.”
Daniel looked toward his computer.
“What did you write?”
“That something was wrong.”
His pulse changed.
“What?”
“I thought Evelyn was intentionally making Lucas afraid of attachment.”
Natalie covered her mouth.
Megan continued.
“I told you your son didn’t need another employee. He needed someone allowed to stay.”
Daniel looked away.
“Did I answer?”
“No.”
“I never saw them.”
“I figured.”
“Why?”
“Because two hours after my third email, Evelyn called.”
Daniel went still.
“What did she say?”
“She said if I contacted you again, the family would report me for stealing Grace Brooks’s jewelry.”
Daniel stood.
“Did you?”
“Of course not.”
“Did she show you anything?”
“No.”
“She just said people would believe your household over a fired nanny.”
Daniel walked toward the window.
The city lights beyond the estate blurred against the glass.
“Why didn’t you go to police?”
“With what?”
Megan sounded exhausted.
“A rich family’s house manager threatened my career. I had no recording.”
“Nothing?”
A pause.
“Almost nothing.”
Daniel turned.
“What do you have?”
“I recorded one conversation.”
“When?”
“The day before she fired me.”
Daniel’s heartbeat changed.
“What conversation?”
Megan hesitated.
Then said:
“Evelyn talking to Lucas.”
Daniel’s mouth went dry.
“Send it.”
“I don’t know.”
“Megan.”
“I spent two years trying to forget that house.”
Daniel lowered his voice.
“You don’t owe me anything.”
Natalie looked at him.
Daniel meant it.
“But Lucas still wakes up afraid everyone will leave.”
Silence.
Then Megan whispered:
“I’ll send it.”
The file arrived twelve minutes later.
Daniel downloaded it.
Played it once.
Evelyn’s voice filled the office.
Calm.
Patient.
Cold.
“Lucas, people cannot stay when you behave this way.”
A small child cried in the background.
Three-year-old Lucas.
“But Megan loves me.”
Evelyn replied:
“Megan works here.”
Lucas sniffed.
“She said she loves me.”
A pause.
Then Evelyn:
“People say things when children make them feel sorry for them.”
Daniel stopped breathing.
Lucas’s voice:
“Will Daddy make her go?”
Evelyn answered:
“Your father signs every dismissal.”
The recording ended.
Daniel stared at the speaker.
Natalie said nothing.
There was nothing useful to say.
Daniel replayed one sentence.
Your father signs every dismissal.
Technically true.
He had.
Without asking.
Without reading closely.
Without looking his grieving son in the face and wondering why every person Lucas trusted disappeared.
Daniel had always believed power meant knowing what happened inside his organization.
He suddenly realized he had known less about his own home than the five-year-old sleeping upstairs.
Then another email arrived from Megan.
One photograph.
A stack of letters.
Each envelope addressed in childish handwriting:
FOR LUCAS.
Megan’s message beneath it:
I mailed these every month for a year.
They were all returned unopened.
Daniel looked at the return label.
BROOKS RESIDENCE — DELIVERY REFUSED BY HOUSE MANAGEMENT.
May you like
Someone had not merely removed Lucas’s caregivers.
Someone had made sure he believed they never tried to come back.
