Maisie let go.
“Anna.”
The nanny looked toward the little girl.
Her face changed immediately.
She bent as Maisie ran into her arms.
“I told him,” the child said.
Anna held her.
“You’re all right.”
“I didn’t say it right.”
“You told him where I was.”
Julian remained at the doorway.
He had asked people questions in rooms they were afraid to leave.
He knew the shape of fear.
He had never wanted to recognize it in the woman he paid to keep his daughter safe.
“Anna.”
She looked up.
“Do you need medical help?”
“I need my phone.”
He nodded.
“Of course.”
“And I need this door to stay open.”
Julian stepped aside.
“It will.”
Anna did not hurry to reassure him.
That mattered.
For three years, she had been the person who explained the practical problem before admitting whether she was tired.
A delayed collection.
A fever.
A frightened child who wanted the same book again.
Now she stayed on the chair Mrs. Holloway brought and kept Maisie close until the girl’s breathing settled.
Then she looked at Julian.
“My phone is in the playroom.”
Daniel started to move.
Julian stopped him with a quiet request.
“Please ask someone Anna chooses to get it.”
The nanny looked toward the household manager.
“Would you?”
“Of course.”
Estelle appeared at the end of the corridor.
She had finally released the brass key.
It lay in her open palm.
“There’s been an overreaction.”
Anna’s arm tightened around Maisie.
Julian noticed.
He moved between the doorway and the corridor, leaving the nanny’s view into the hall clear.
“Not here.”
“She needs to explain the necklace.”
“She does not have to answer you while she is trying to leave a room you locked.”
Estelle looked toward Daniel.
