Ep 3

The morning spun like a storm inside Jade’s apartment.

She tore through her closet, tossing wrinkled blouses and faded cardigans onto the bed. None of them looked professional enough. None of them looked like the kind of thing someone who could afford a nanny would take seriously.

“Jade, stop panicking.” Lisa appeared in the doorway, arms folded, a sharp edge of amusement in her voice. “You look like you’re packing for the apocalypse, not an interview.”

Jade groaned, sinking onto the mattress. “I don’t have anything that says competent adult. Everything screams broke college student.”

Lisa rolled her eyes and dug through Jade’s discarded pile, tugging out a simple navy dress Jade had forgotten she owned. “This. It’s clean, not falling apart, and it actually makes you look like you know how to iron even though we both know you don’t.”

“Lisa—”

“Trust me.” She shoved the dress into Jade’s hands. “Now move.”

While Jade changed, her mother moved quietly around the kitchenette, frying eggs and toasting bread. The smell was so achingly familiar that Jade’s throat tightened. For a moment, it was almost like being a kid again—before her father’s voice grew louder than the sound of sizzling butter.

“Eat something,” her mother urged softly, setting the plate on the table.

Jade glanced at the clock. Thirty-five minutes until the interview. Her stomach was in knots, but she sat anyway, shoveling food in so quickly that halfway through a bite, the bread lodged in her throat.

She choked, eyes watering, hammering her chest as she gasped for air. Lisa jumped up, swearing under her breath, while her mother rubbed frantic circles across her back.

Finally, Jade managed to swallow, coughing until her chest ached. “I—I don’t have time to chew properly,” she wheezed.

Lisa shoved a glass of water into her hand. “You don’t have time to choke to death either. Slow down.”

Jade drank greedily, set the glass down with trembling fingers, then checked the time again. Thirty minutes.

Her pulse quickened.

She grabbed her tote, stuffed her cracked phone and half-folded résumé inside, and jammed her feet into the least-scuffed pair of flats she owned.

Lisa caught her by the shoulders, forcing her to stop. “Breathe. You’ll do fine. Just don’t… you know, talk about choking on toast during the interview.”

Jade gave a shaky laugh that sounded more like a sob. “Noted.”

Then she glanced at her mother, who stood watching from the kitchen, wringing her hands. Their eyes met, and Jade saw the quiet hope there — hope that Jade could succeed where she had not, that maybe one of them could finally escape the cycle.

It made Jade’s chest ache. She forced a smile for her mother’s sake. “I’ll be back soon.”

And then she bolted out the door, heart hammering, every step down the stairwell echoing with the thought that this was it — her one chance, her last chance.

The city wasn’t on her side.

Jade darted down the cracked sidewalk, tote bouncing against her hip, flats slapping the pavement. A cold wind whipped her hair into her face, blinding her as she squinted at her phone’s map app.

She was late. Not technically—yet—but dangerously close.

Every red light seemed timed to punish her. She bounced on her toes at the crosswalk, muttering under her breath as traffic crawled by.

Come on, come on.

When the light changed, she sprinted across, nearly colliding with a man balancing a tray of coffees. Hot liquid sloshed onto his sleeve.

“Watch it!” he barked.

“Sorry!” Jade shouted over her shoulder, already gone.

Her tote strap dug into her shoulder, heavy with papers she wasn’t sure anyone would even ask for. Her résumé looked pitiful compared to what she imagined other applicants carried: polished credentials, glowing recommendations, experience at prestigious households.

She had one tutoring gig that was probably gone and a part-time bar job that had ended in humiliation.

By the time the bus arrived, she was out of breath, cheeks flushed. She slid into a seat, clutching the metal pole as the city blurred by.

Her reflection in the window looked pale, almost ghostlike, but the navy dress Lisa had picked out gave her a sliver of dignity. If she didn’t open her mouth, maybe she could pass for someone competent.

Maybe.

The ride stretched forever, every stop a knife in her nerves. She rehearsed answers in her head: Why do you want this job? Because I don’t want to lose everything. What experience do you have? Not enough, but please give me a chance anyway.

Her stomach flipped. She pressed a hand against it, willing herself not to throw up.

When the bus finally screeched to her stop, Jade tumbled out and started walking. Her phone’s GPS guided her through quieter streets, where traffic thinned and houses grew larger, lawns greener, gates taller.

Each block felt like a step into another universe.

By the time she reached the address, she stopped dead in her tracks.

A wrought-iron gate loomed before her, elegant and cold, stretching high above her head. Beyond it, a long driveway curved out of sight, lined with manicured hedges and towering oaks that whispered in the wind.

Her breath caught.

She fumbled for the buzzer, pressing the button with a trembling finger. For a moment, there was silence. Then a crackle, and a crisp voice filled the speaker.

“Name and business.”

Jade swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. “Jade Dawson. I—I have an interview for the nanny position.”

Another pause. She swore she could hear the static pulse with her heartbeat.

Finally, the gates clicked, swinging open with slow, deliberate weight, as though even the entrance tested her patience.

Jade stepped inside.

The gravel crunched under her shoes, every step up the driveway amplifying her nerves. The mansion revealed itself in pieces—a flash of stone walls, a row of dark windows, the glint of sunlight on glass. It wasn’t just big. It was intimidating, the kind of house that seemed built to keep people like her out.

She clutched her tote tighter, pulse racing.

This was it.

One chance to prove she wasn’t just another broke girl trying to survive.

One chance to convince someone with power that she belonged.

And if she failed—she had nothing left.

Jade stood on the massive stone steps of the mansion, heart hammering in her chest. The house loomed above her like something out of a storybook—except instead of magic, she felt only pressure pressing against her ribs. This was it. Her one chance.

She smoothed the front of her dress with trembling fingers, whispered a quick prayer, and lifted her hand to knock.

And then—

SPLASH!

A whole bucket of cold, dirty water poured down over her from above, drenching her in an instant. The liquid seeped through her clothes, plastering the fabric against her skin, dripping into her shoes. She froze, gasping as mud streaked across her arms and face, strands of hair sticking wetly to her cheeks.

Her breath hitched, eyes stinging. Why me?

The heavy front door creaked open at that exact moment, and a tall man in a tailored gray suit stepped out, tablet in one hand. His dark brows shot up as he took in the sight before him.

“Miss Dawson!” he exclaimed, his usually composed voice breaking in surprise. He hurried forward, his polished shoes splashing into the puddle forming around her feet.

Jade swallowed back the lump in her throat, forcing her trembling lips into a weak smile. “Sorry for being late,” she said, her voice tight but steady. “I think I already got my punishment. Can we please move forward with the interview?”

The man blinked, caught off guard by her words. He looked no more than a few years older than her—maybe mid-twenties—but the way he studied her, part confusion and part concern, made him seem far older in that moment.

What kind of girl gets humiliated like this and still jokes about it?

“Miss Dawson…” he started carefully, his tone softer now. “At least let me—” He gestured vaguely toward the inside of the house. “We have a washroom you can use, or I can get you a towel.”

But Jade shook her head firmly, clutching her soggy tote closer. “No. Thank you. If I stop now, I might lose my nerve. Let’s just get this over with.”

Something flickered across his face—respect, maybe. Or disbelief. He let out a slow breath, then shrugged off his coat and, without waiting for her refusal, draped it gently around her shoulders.

Jade stiffened at the unexpected kindness but didn’t argue. The warmth of the coat was a fragile shield against the cold humiliation clinging to her skin.

“Alright then,” he said quietly, still looking at her like she was some puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. “Follow me.”

Jade nodded, biting the inside of her cheek to hold back the sting in her eyes. She wasn’t going to cry. Not here. Not when the biggest opportunity of her life waited just beyond those polished doors.

She lifted her chin, gathered what little dignity she had left, and stepped into the lion’s den.

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