Theodore sat near the window, sunlight spilling over his hunched shoulders like a quiet spotlight. He was bent over a puzzle, deep in concentration, lips slightly pursed, as if the entire world hung on fitting one more piece. He didn't glance up when the door opened.
Monica paused at the threshold, unsure of what she expected—perhaps a more playful child, perhaps someone more withdrawn but the calm boy in front of her looked like neither. There was something unnervingly composed about him.
She stepped in gently. "Hi, you must be Theodore."
The boy looked up at her. He was handsome, unmistakably so, with fine features and sharp eyes that looked older than his years.
"It's Theo," he replied softly. "Father only calls me Theodore when I'm in trouble."
There was no bitterness in his voice, just a quiet correction.
Monica smiled, stepping closer. "Then Theo it is. I'm Monica."
He nodded once, a polite but reserved gesture. Monica glanced around the room. It was large and airy, but thoughtfully arranged books, maps, puzzles, a telescope by the window, a globe in the corner. Everything about the room spoke of a bright, curious child. But there was discipline in its tidiness too something that hinted at structure… or maybe pressure.
"You like puzzles?" she asked, approaching him.
"They're quiet," Theo said. "And they always have an answer."
"That's rare," Monica murmured, crouching beside him. "Most things don't."
Theo looked up again, examining her as if she were a question he hadn't decided whether to solve. "You look sad," he said bluntly.
Monica blinked. "Do I?"
He nodded. "But not the crying kind".
Her throat tightened. She didn't know what to say to that. No one had ever caught her so easily especially not a child.
"Indeed, it's been a tough week," she chucked.
Theo tilted his head. "Tired and sad. Did someone hurt you?"
Monica opened her mouth, then closed it again. He was too perceptive. She forced a change in tone.
"You're very observant," she said. "And honest. That's a rare combination."
He shrugged, as if he wasn't sure whether it was a compliment. "Father says I think too much."
" you call your Dad, Father" Monica asked surprised.
" when I'm not speaking to him, yes, I do". Theo said as he paused to search for the missing spot.
"Thinking is good," she said replying to his previous statement.
There was a moment of silence. Then he reached for a puzzle piece and handed it to her. "This one goes in the corner."
She took it, brushing his small hand in the process. "Thanks."
He allowed a small smile. It warmed his face changed it from brooding to boyish in an instant.
Encouraged, Monica reached out and gently tousled his hair. "You're a smart boy, Theo."
He didn't flinch, didn't pull away. If anything, he leaned in, just slightly.
From the hallway, Anita watched silently. In all her years in the mansion, she had never seen Theo take to anyone like this, not even with tutors or military relatives. This... was new.
Theo stared up at Monica, quiet again. "I think I like you."
Monica's chest tightened. She couldn't explain it, but something about this child called out to her. The innocence in his voice, the honesty. She felt a strange twist in her heart.
"I think I like you too," she whispered.
But the warmth was tinged with something darker. As her hand hovered over his hair, one cruel thought echoed in her mind: how could a child this pure come from a man who was so utterly cruel.
He allowed a small smile. It warmed his face—changed it from brooding to boyish in an instant.
Encouraged, Monica reached out again and gently tousled his hair. "You're a smart boy, Theo."
He didn't flinch, didn't pull away. If anything, he leaned in, just slightly.
From the hallway, Anita watched silently. In all her years in the mansion, she had never seen Theo take to anyone like this not even with tutors or military relatives. This... was new.
Theo stared up at Monica, quiet again. "I think I like you."
Monica's chest tightened. She couldn't explain it, but something about this child called out to her. The innocence in his voice, the honesty. She felt a strange twist in her heart.
"I think I like you too," she whispered.
But just as she smiled, something cold shifted in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes rested on Theo's soft, curious face but her mind swirled.
Coming here, stepping into this mansion, into this life it wasn't just pretending anymore. It was real. And beneath every kind word, every careful smile, was her hidden conviction: that the man who fathered this boy had taken her husband's life. That somewhere in this house was a truth she needed to dig out, no matter the cost.
Monica blinked clearing the haze in her eyes so Theo wouldn't see through it.
She rose to her feet slowly. "We should probably let you finish your puzzle before dinner."
He nodded, quietly,as his eyes followed her.