Is she trying to wake Nova? She certainly is causing a scene.
Several guards glance in our direction as Nikki thunders down the stairs.
Exhaling a sigh, I head into Nova’s bedroom to tuck my little girl into bed. Except for her unicorn nightlight beside the bed, the lights are off.
She rolls around and peeks out through heavy lids, sitting up in bed the minute she sees me. “Where’s Paige?” Nova asks.
“She can’t tuck you into tonight.”
The pout on her bottom lip makes my stomach flop. The girl is in love with her nanny.
Yeah, well, so was I.
Now I’m eternally conflicted.
“Do you want to tell me what happened today?” I ask. I trust Nova’s narrative of events, whatever they might be.
Nova plops back on the mattress and pulls the covers up around herself. She shuts her eyes.
That’s a no.
I sit at the edge of Nova’s bed, hoping to get her to talk to me and open up. “Did Paige tell you where she was taking you?”
Again, I’m met with silence.
“Nova, I need to know what happened, or I’m going to have to send Paige away.”
“No!” she squeals and sits up in bed, her eyes wide and her forehead sweaty. It’s like she had a bad dream, but it’s all too real.
I’m not sure what I’m expecting from a four-year-old. Maybe I’m giving Nova too much credit to explain what happened and defend Paige or implicate her.
* * *
I thunder down the stairs to the prison.
Nova is tucked into bed, and I can’t stand still long enough to grab something to eat, let alone a glass of water. At this rate, I’d throw it against the wall out of frustration.
Paige owes me an explanation.
I demand answers.
“How long have you been working for Vance DeLuca?” There are no pleasantries on my approach.
She’s seated on the floor. It’s cold and dusty. Paige doesn’t even attempt to stand when I storm down the steps into the basement.
“He runs the nanny agency that you hired. I had no idea who he was, the connection to your family, any of it until the night at the club when he showed up. I’m not loyal to him,” she says.
Paige stares up at me. She doesn’t stand or move from her position on the floor.
I watch her expression and try to read her eyes, whether she flinches or not. I study her lips and if her voice quivers when she speaks.
I’ve interrogated dozens of men in these very cells and tortured most of them.
I recognize no signs of her lying to me, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have me fooled. Serene certainly did, if what Vance said was true.
“And when he showed up at the club and after I told you about Serene, you still didn’t come clean!”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, staring right at me. “I was afraid.”