When the door closed, Cassie slumped into the chair, trembling all over. This woman’s anger was a powerful force and she felt flayed by her words. Cassie knew she would do anything rather than risk displeasing her again—or, as she had said, disappointing her.
She didn’t even dare to dream about the internship now. Thanks to her messing up, she guessed that offer was no longer on the table, unless she could find a way to redeem herself again.
Lifting the salver, Cassie found a sumptuous supper arranged. It was as if Ms. Rossi had provided enough for two. In addition to the large bowl of chicken risotto, there was a platter piled with breadsticks, dips, roasted vegetables, and cheeses.
There was no way she could eat it all. That left her in a quandary, because she’d been told to stay in her room for the night, so she couldn’t return the leftovers to the kitchen. After forcing down half the risotto, she transferred the rest of the food to the side plate and put it into the small bar fridge next to her desk.
With nothing else to do, Cassie decided to turn in early. This had been a stressful day and she decided an early night would do her good.
Once in bed, she found herself unable to sleep. She tossed and turned, agonizing over the question of whether Jacqui was dead or alive, with her thoughts returning again and again to the children in her care.
It was unfair that they were not allowed to be children. Every child was, surely? Cassie couldn’t imagine that all business leaders and giants of industry were raised in a certain way. She was sure that the majority were raised normally. Yes, Ms. Rossi had exceptionally well-behaved children thanks to her methods, but were they happy? They seemed so reserved, as if they were almost—frightened, Cassie guessed, about expressing their personalities. Surely over-disciplining a child in this way would create a follower rather than a leader?
Then again, perhaps that was what Ms. Rossi was aiming for—two obedient children who would do what she told them, while she remained at her company’s helm.
With that depressing thought in her mind, Cassie managed to drift into a deep sleep.
*
She only realized when she opened her eyes that she had forgotten to set her alarm the night before. Jerking upright, groggy and disoriented from her dreamless slumber, she grabbed her phone in a panic.
It was already a quarter to eight; she should have been up half an hour ago. Her alarm wasn’t programmed for Saturdays, but it seemed Saturdays were school days here, because Nina had told her yesterday about her test.
The children had to be prepared for school, and Cassie couldn’t rely on them making their own breakfast every morning. Yesterday might just have been an exception.
She tore round the room, flinging on her clothes, and ran into the bathroom to tidy her hair. Then she dashed out and sprinted to the children’s rooms.
Nina was not in her room but her bed was made. Venetia, already dressed for school, was packing books into her bag. As she said good morning, Cassie noticed that the younger girl’s ponytail was messier than it had been the day before and guessed she’d done it herself. Perhaps she and her sister didn’t always help each other. Cassie wondered if her game of hide-and-seek might have caused them to fight.
“Would you like me to tie up your hair?” she asked.
“Thank you,” Venetia said.
Cassie took a brush and smoothed her dark hair back before fastening the hair tie around it.
“It’s not too tight?” she asked.
“It’s fine. Thank you.”
Venetia’s stomach rumbled audibly, reminding Cassie that breakfast still had to be organized.
“I’ll head down and make a start on food,” she said. “What would you like? Same as yesterday—toast and jam? Orange juice?”
Venetia shook her head. “I am not hungry, thank you.”
“Not hungry?” Cassie frowned, wondering if Venetia’s noisy stomach was a sign she’d eaten something bad, or had the stomach flu. “Not hungry at all? Are you feeling well?”
“Yes, but I will not eat.”
Perhaps Venetia wasn’t always a morning eater. Some people weren’t. Even so, she should have something to take with her.
“I’ll pack you a snack,” Cassie said. “Would you like a sandwich?”
But Venetia insisted, “No, thank you.”
Cassie looked at her more closely. She must not be feeling well.
“Have you at least had something to drink?” She recalled that dehydration was a risk with stomach flu.
“I have had water, yes.”
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
Cassie was frustrated that the child seemed to have reverted back to her overly polite, shut-down mode. She’d thought that they had made strides in getting to know each other yesterday, but it seemed to be two steps forward, one step back.
“I am fine.”
Giving up on the discussion, Cassie headed downstairs to the kitchen. She wasn’t sure what the situation was with packed lunches. Who made them? The kitchen seemed to be managed by the cook, who only worked there part of the day. She didn’t know if she was allowed to raid the fridge for school lunches or snacks.
When she went downstairs, she found Ms. Rossi in the kitchen, with Maurice hovering nearby. She was having a discussion with the cook. Clearly this was a working day for her, too.
“Good morning,” she greeted Cassie, who was relieved that her tone was friendly. Maurice didn’t greet her. He was busy checking something on his iPad.
Cassie had expected to see Nina in the kitchen. Where was she?
As if reading her mind, Ms. Rossi said, “Nina went to school early today.”
“Ah, OK, thank you. I was wondering where she was. I guess she wanted to prepare for her spelling test,” Cassie said, hoping that Ms. Rossi would be impressed by her knowledge of their routine.
She didn’t seem to be, but turned away and continued her discussion with the cook in Italian.
“Um, can I possibly take a few snacks from the fridge?” Cassie asked.
She hated to interrupt, but she was
