Chapter 6The Quietest Kid Ever
My first official day as a nanny started with me waking up five minutes before my alarm.
Which was annoying.
But also impressive.
Because normally I could sleep through a fire alarm, three phone calls, and Sophie yelling my name.
But apparently my brain decided today was Important Life Moment Day.
So I sat up in the giant bed and stared at the ceiling.
Then I remembered something.
I live in a mansion now.
That thought alone made me sit up straight.
"Okay Amelia," I whispered to myself.
"First day. Do not embarrass yourself."
I got ready quickly and walked downstairs, trying to remember the correct hallway turns.
Thankfully I did not get lost this time.
Small victory.
The kitchen was huge.
Like restaurant level huge.
Mrs Miller was already there organizing something on the counter.
"Good morning Miss Carter."
"Good morning."
"You may call me Amelia."
She nodded politely.
"Mr Blackwood has already left for work."
Of course he had.
The man probably started working before the sun even came up.
"And Noah?" I asked.
"He is in the living room."
My stomach did a tiny nervous flip.
Right.
The actual child I was hired to take care of.
Mrs Miller gave me a calm look.
"He tends to play quietly."
"I noticed."
"He may not speak at first."
"I understand."
I actually did.
Some kids needed time.
And forcing them to talk usually made things worse.
Still.
I took a deep breath before walking toward the living room.
When I stepped inside I immediately saw him.
Noah was sitting on the floor with a small wooden train set.
He was carefully pushing one train along the tracks.
Slowly.
Very focused.
He noticed me almost instantly.
His small hands stopped moving.
Grey eyes looked up at me.
Quiet.
Watchful.
Like he was studying me.
I smiled gently.
"Good morning Noah."
No answer.
That was okay.
I walked a little closer but not too close.
Kids sometimes got uncomfortable if adults entered their space too quickly.
"So," I said casually.
"I think trains are pretty cool."
Still nothing.
He just kept looking at me.
Okay.
New strategy.
I sat down on the floor a few feet away.
Not touching his toys.
Just sitting.
"So I have to tell you something," I continued.
"I once tried building a train track like that when I was younger."
He blinked slowly.
That felt like progress.
"Except mine looked terrible."
Silence.
"I accidentally made the train crash into a chair."
Still silence.
"But it was very dramatic."
Noah slowly looked back at his train.
Then he pushed it forward again.
I watched quietly.
He was very careful with it.
Every movement was slow and controlled.
Which was kind of adorable.
After a minute I spoke again.
"You are very good at that."
No reaction.
But he did not leave.
Which was something.
I rested my chin in my hand.
"You know," I said thoughtfully, "I think trains are secretly the most patient toys."
Noah paused.
Just for a second.
Then he continued pushing the train.
Okay.
So maybe my train philosophy was not very convincing.
We sat there like that for several minutes.
He played.
I watched.
Occasionally I said something random.
Most of the time he ignored me.
But he stayed.
Which honestly felt like a small victory.
After a while he picked up another train and connected it to the first one.
I leaned slightly closer.
"Oh wow. Now it is a long train."
He glanced at me quickly.
Then looked back at the track.
Progress.
Tiny progress.
But still progress.
Later that morning I tried again.
This time with coloring.
I placed two sheets of paper on the table.
One in front of me.
One in front of him.
"I am drawing a very bad dog," I announced.
Noah sat quietly across from me.
Watching.
I started drawing.
It looked terrible.
"Wow," I said dramatically.
"This dog looks like a potato."
Noah blinked.
Then he slowly picked up a crayon.
My heart did a small happy jump.
He started drawing quietly.
I tried not to stare.
Kids noticed that.
But I could not help glancing over occasionally.
His drawing was actually pretty good.
Way better than my potato dog.
"That is amazing," I said softly.
He froze slightly.
Then continued drawing.
Still silent.
Still careful.
But he did not stop.
Which felt important.
Very important.
By the afternoon I realized something.
Noah might be the quietest child in the entire world.
But he was also extremely observant.
He noticed everything.
Every movement.
Every word.
Every small detail.
And sometimes I caught him looking at me when he thought I was not paying attention.
Like he was trying to figure me out.
Which honestly felt fair.
Because I was trying to figure him out too.
Later that evening Dominic came home.
I was sitting on the couch reading a picture book out loud.
Mostly to myself.
Noah was sitting on the floor with his trains again.
Dominic walked into the room and stopped.
His eyes moved between us.
Then they rested on Noah.
The boy looked calm.
Relaxed.
Not hiding.
Dominic noticed that.
His expression changed slightly.
Just a little.
Like he was surprised.
He looked at me.
Then back at Noah.
Then back at me again.
I smiled politely.
"Hi."
He gave a small nod.
No smile.
Of course.
But his eyes stayed on Noah a moment longer.
And I had the strange feeling that something important had just happened.
Even if nobody said a single word.