WHEN THE THIRTEENTH NANNY WALKED INTO YOUR MANSION AND WHISPERED, “SHE’S STILL HERE,” YOUR SCREAMING TWINS WENT SILENT… AND THE WOMAN YOU HIRED TO CLEAN FLOORS ENDED UP EXPOSING THE SECRET IN YOUR NURSERY, SHATTERING YOUR GUILT, AND FORCING YOU TO FACE THE DEAD WIFE YOU NEVER REALLY LET GO

Outside, thunder rolled somewhere beyond the west lawn, low and heavy over the Hudson. Inside the nursery, the silence stretched with a pressure of its own. Peter’s eyes moved from Helen to you, then back again, as if he were waiting to see which one of you actually belonged in the room.

Martha was the first to speak.

“Señor Marcus,” she said quietly, “maybe we should go downstairs.”

“No,” Helen said.

You both turned to her.