The boys, who used to slam doors and refuse to come to dinner, now came to the table willingly when Mariah called. Their laughter, which had once been rare and short-lived, now filled the halls. For the first time in years, the mansion didn’t feel like a cold, echoing building, it felt like a home.
But Adrian still didn’t fully understand how Mariah was managing what no professional nanny could. One evening, he came home early from work, and what he saw left him frozen at the doorway. The boys were curled up asleep on the bed, one on each side of Mariah, who herself had dozed off while reading to them.
The scene was so peaceful, so full of love, that for a moment, Adrian felt an ache in his chest he hadn’t allowed himself to feel since his wife’s passing. Despite the progress, Mariah’s work wasn’t easy. There were setbacks, days when the boys would retreat into silence, or moments when grief would bubble up in sudden outbursts.
But she never walked away. She taught them to plant flowers in the garden, telling them that just like flowers, broken hearts needed care and patience to grow again. Slowly, the boys began to trust not only her, but themselves.
Months passed, and one rainy evening, Adrian overheard something that brought him to tears. The twins were in their room, talking before bed. Ethan whispered, Do you think Mariah will leave?, and Liam replied softly, No, she’s different.
She’s home. That single word, home, changed something in Adrian. He realized Mariah hadn’t just taken care of his sons…
