Chapter 3 - The Little Guardian
The nursery was peaceful for the first time in months.
The soft yellow glow of the nightlight illuminated the three cribs. Theo, Miles, and Nora were sound asleep, their breathing deep and rhythmic, their little faces free of pain.
Sitting in a rocking chair in the corner was Elena, holding Sophie in her lap. Elena was weeping silently, packing a small canvas bag on the floor with her daughter's few belongings.
"Mr. Moretti," Elena whispered, jumping up as Adrien entered. She pressed Sophie behind her back defensively. "Please... we are leaving. I swear on my life Sophie didn't know what that thing was. She thought she was helping."
Adrien held up a hand. "Sit down, Elena."
Elena hesitated, then slowly sat back in the rocking chair, clutching Sophie tightly.
Adrien walked over to the chair and knelt down in front of the four-year-old girl. At his height, kneeling brought him eye-to-eye with her.
"Sophie," Adrien said softly. He held out the broken cloth doll. "I repaired Sally’s seam. The bad machine is gone."
Sophie looked at the doll, then reached out her small hand and took it. She ran her fingers over the new, neat stitches Adrien’s tailor had quickly done downstairs.
"Is Sally okay now?" Sophie asked quietly.
"Sally is fine," Adrien said. "And the babies are sleeping because of you."
"They were hurt," Sophie whispered, looking at the cribs. "Every night, when the clock went ding-ding, my ears felt like they had bugs in them. But when I sat close to the cribs, the noise got softer."
Adrien’s heart stopped for a second. "You felt it too?"
Sophie nodded. "It made my head hurt. But the babies were smaller than me. They couldn't say 'stop.' So I sat with them."
Adrien looked at the little girl in awe. The frequency had reached the staff quarters down the hall, but while adults brushed off the faint discomfort as a migraine, this four-year-old had recognized the source, carried the doll into the room, and absorbed the acoustic pressure with her own body to protect infants who weren't even her family.
He turned to Elena. "How long have you worked here?"
"Two years, sir," Elena stammered, wiping her tears. "I am a senior housemaid. I live in the servants' wing."
"Your daughter is extraordinary," Adrien said.
"She... she is very quiet, sir. She mostly keeps to herself," Elena said nervously. "Please, Mr. Moretti, don't fire me. I have nowhere else to take her."
"Fire you?" Adrien stood up, smoothing his tailored suit. "You are no longer a housemaid, Elena."
Elena gasped, her face going pale. "Sir—"
"Starting tomorrow, you are the head manager of the estate staff," Adrien announced. "Your salary is quadrupled. And Sophie..." He looked down at the little girl, who was now hugging her doll tightly. "Sophie will be educated alongside my children. Private tutors, top schools, whatever she needs."
Elena stared at him in utter shock. "Mr. Moretti... I can't accept that—"
"You can, and you will," Adrien said firmly. "Your daughter saved my children’s lives tonight. The Moretti family never forgets a debt."
He knelt back down to Sophie level. "Sophie?"
"Yes, Mr. Moretti?"
"From now on, if anything in this house feels wrong—if any sound hurts your ears, or if anyone gives you something strange—you come straight to me. Do you understand?"
May you like
Sophie looked into the eyes of the most feared man in the city, nodded once, and said, "Okay. Can I stay with the babies a little longer?"
Adrien’s rigid, cold expression melted into a genuine, rare smile. "Yes, Sophie. You can stay as long as you want."
