My mom sounded petulant. “He always said he liked living alone, said he wanted his own space. What’s so special about this Angela?”

I had just come downstairs with a backpack full of my belongings. I walked into the living room. “It’s good to know you’re human after all.”

My mom glared at me. “What are you talking about, Swallow?”

“You’re all jealous,” I said. “You feel possessive of Vik and threatened by this Angela person. It’s normal. It’s human nature.”

“No, it isn’t!” my dad cried. “Pure love isn’t about ownership and control!”

“Monogamy is a societal construct!” Gwen shouted. “It treats women like chattel!”

But my eyes were on my mom, and she was surprisingly quiet. Then she pointed at the backpack looped around my forearm. “Where are you going?”

“I’m moving in with Freya and Max. They need help with the baby.”

“You can’t stand babies.”

She was right. And while I pitied baby Maggie, that hadn’t changed my feelings toward infants in general. But Freya’s daughter would soon be gone, living with her father and Jamie. At least most of the time. And I would be entrenched in Freya’s life: her live-in photographer, her social media manager, and her best friend. Maybe even more. . . .

“They’re paying me,” I explained. “A lot.”

The adults shared a look. While they proclaimed to be socialists, they understood the value of a buck.

“Don’t be a stranger,” my dad said. My mom hugged me and let me walk out the door.

• • •

If I was to be employed as a full-time nanny, I would have to quit my job at Hawking Mercantile. Resigning also gave me the opportunity to check in with Jamie, to ensure that her plans to gain custody of Maggie were progressing. I’d always kept an emotional distance from my boss, but now I needed to connect with her. I needed her to trust me, to see me as her ally. I had been feeding her information via text: informing her of the baby’s name (and its link to Max’s mother); apprising her that Freya refused to breastfeed; letting her know that Max was struggling, even with my help. But I hadn’t seen Jamie in person since that night at the hospital.

I parked directly in front of the store and entered the deserted shop. Jamie was behind the counter, scrolling disinterestedly through her phone. My boss—soon to be former boss—did not look well. Her skin was dull and dry, and there were circles under her eyes. She wasn’t sleeping, wasn’t taking care of herself. She needed to pull it together. She had a battle ahead of her.

“I’m sorry to see you go,” she said, when I told her Max had hired me to help Freya. “How’s the baby doing?”

I sighed. “Okay, I guess. Except . . .”