Chapter 32 - New Friends

Hey y'all ,heads up :

This chapter is kinda of quiet and maybe even 'boring'

You choose

No judgment — you do you! 😉

POV Juliet.

The lady looked like a tomato about to pop. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish, but no sound came out — just a choked, furious squeak.

The nanny — now with a perfect brown splat across her pressed gray dress — finally found her voice. "You... you little demon... Come here!"

She lunged, not for Charlie, but for Olivia. Her hand shot out like a snake, bony fingers aiming to grab Olivia's small ear and yank.

Olivia didn't run.

She didn't move a muscle.

She moved like a cat.

As the nanny's fingers brushed her ear, Olivia snapped her head forward and bit down.

Hard.

"YEOWWWW!"

"You evil ,wicked child," she shrieked like Julian 's alarm clock. It made my ears go ouch.

"Bad girls like you go to hell," she hissed ,grabbing Charlie 's hand.

As the tomato-faced nanny tried to drag Charlie away, a new voice cut through the park's tense air.

"Penelope. A word."

It was Lia — the sun-hat lady Ijah had left me with. She stood calmly a few feet away, but her voice was cold cream on a burn.

She didn't raise it, but it carried like a slap.

Penelope froze, her grip still tight on Charlie's wrist. "This... this child bit me! Look!" She thrust her hand forward, showing the red half-moon marks on her knuckles.

Lia didn't even glance at the wound.

Her eyes stayed locked on the nanny's face.

"I saw. I also saw you lunge at a child in a space meant for play. Not correction. This is a secured, elite facility, not a Victorian boarding school. You will not grab children here — not even the ones who throw mud."

Penelope sputtered. "She ruined my dress! She's crazy!"

"She's three," Lia replied evenly.

"And you are an employee of the Williams family, are you not? I'm sure Congressman Williams would be fascinated to hear how his daughter's caregiver caused a scene, screamed obscenities in front of other children, and attempted to physically discipline a toddler in public."

Penelope's face went from red to chalk-white.

Charlie tugged her arm free and skipped back toward the sandbox, grinning like she'd just got the yummiest chocolate in the world.

"Now," Lia said, her voice dropping into a dangerous purr like Riven 's shiny panther cars.

"Clean yourself up. Behave. Or I will personally ensure you never work with children — or any respectable family — in this city again. Do not give this establishment a reputation for unstable nannies."

Penelope smoothed her stained dress, shot a venomous look toward the slide where Olivia was hiding ,sticking out her tongue. She stormed off toward the bathrooms without another word.

"Hi!" Charlie chirped, skidding to a stop in front of me.

Funny Hairs my bodyguard l decided to name him, tensed, but Charlie wasn't looking at him. She was staring right into my face.

"You have pwetty eyes," she announced. "They're greeny-gold. Like my puppy's. His name is Biscuit."

I blinked. No one had ever said I had puppy eyes before. Ijah said they were like Mama's. Riven said they were "big and gonna get us in trouble."

"You have a funny nose," I said.

She giggled.

"Want to build a castle?" she asked, already pulling my hand.

I looked up at Funny Hairs. He gave a small nod. Okay. Sandcastle.

We sat in the sand. Charlie dug with her hands, fast and messy. I patted mine carefully, the way Leo showed me with his little clay models.

"Look!" Charlie suddenly shouted. She held up a wiggly, pinkish-brown worm. "It's Mr. Wiggle Butts!"

I froze. The worm squirmed in her muddy palm.

"Touch it!" Charlie pushed her hand toward me. "He's soft!"

I scrambled backward. "No! Ew!"

"He's not scary! He's a fwiend!"

But I was already up and running, my little legs pumping fast. The worm was icky and wet and alive.

"Come back!" Charlie yelled, chasing me with Mr. Wiggle Butts still in her hand. "He won't hurt you!"

I ducked behind the slide, breathing fast. Charlie skidded to a stop in front of me, her face red and happy.

"See?" she said softly, showing me the worm now curled in her palm. "He's just a baby. Like us."

I peeked. The worm did look kinda cute. But still... wiggly.

Charlie gently put Mr. Wiggle Butts back in the dirt. "Bye-bye, Mr. Wiggle Butts."

l waved a little bit ,not as scared as before.

"Bye. Bye. Sleep tight," l whispered.

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Charlie was showing me how to make a sand-hat for Mr. Wiggle Butts (who was now napping in a little leaf-bed) when the air behind the slide went... still.

Like when Ijah gets a phone call and the whole house gets quiet.

Then—

"BOO!"

A face popped around the slide corner. Dark eyes. Messy black hair. Olivia.

Charlie screamed and jumped so high she almost fell into the sandbox. I just froze, my heart going thump-thump-thump in my ears.

Olivia looked at us. Her mouth didn't smile, but her eyes... kinda did. In a secret way.

"You scawed us!" Charlie said, hand on her chest like the ladies in Ijah's telenovelas.

"l know," she whispered ,a small wobbly smile on her face ,"l like scaring people."

Then a clicky noise came.

Click-click-click-click. Fast heels. It was the noise Tia Rosa's shoes made when she was cross about me drawing on the wall.

"Charlotte Diane Williams!"

Charlie's whole body went still. Like when I see a spider and I don't want it to see me.

l looked up. A tall lady was there. She looked like the dolls in the windows downtown. Blonde hair, not one piece out of place.

Her mouth was smiling, but her eyes were... hard. Like the marble floor in the hallway when I run and slip.

"Look at your dress!" the lady hissed.

Her blue eyes were sharp, like the scissors Tia Rosa hides from me ,as she tried to brush of the dirt. "We have pictures! What will Daddy's friends think?"

Charlie's eyes got wet. "We were pwaying, Mommy."

Think? I looked around. Who was thinking? Lia was over by the bench, watching. Some men in suits stood far away.

The lady wasn't talking to them. She was talking to the air. To the invisible people who cared about dresses.

"And where is Penelope?!"

Mrs. Williams demanded.

Her voice was smooth and cold like the knife Leo uses to peel apples.

She stood still like a tree, her designer sunglasses hiding her eyes, but not the tight press of her lips. Her gaze swept the park like a security scan, missing nothing.

A few moments later, Penelope appeared from behind the slide, her steps rushed, her face already pale.

When she saw Mrs. Williams, the color drained completely—white as a ghost from one of Enzo's scary books.

"Is this what I pay you for?" Mrs. Williams' tone was low and dangerously calm, it made my insides jump up and down.

"Incompetence. You can't even keep the Congressman's daughter clean."

Penelope's hands trembled. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Williams. It w-won't happen again."

No." One step. Click. Her shoe sounded like a door locking. "It won't. Because you know what?"

She waited. Penelope didn't breathe.

"You're fired."

The words weren't loud. They were final. Done.

Penelope opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

She just stood there, in her mud-stained uniform, looking smaller than the shadow at her feet.

It was like when Riven takes my juice box away — poof. Gone.

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Then another woman appeared, shiny and polished as a magazine cover. Margaret.

Before anyone could move, a smooth, sugary voice cut through the tension.

Beside her stood a little girl with perfect golden curls.

She wore a neat blue dress—the kind that looked like it had never touched dirt, not even once. It needed some mud. Badly.

She was the cutest fluffy white dog on a matching leash.

"Lillian," Margaret greeted, her voice sweet as honey cake. "Firing the help in public? How... decisive of you."

Mrs. Williams—Lillian—didn't flinch. Her own smile was just as cold. "Margaret. I didn't realize you frequented public parks. Did the country club close for repairs?"

Grown-ups are so weird when they fight. They fight with smiles on their faces. Why?

"Oh, we like to slum it occasionally." Margaret's eyes landed on Charlie, who was still clutching Mr. Wiggle Butts in the sand. "And this must be Charlotte. How... free-spirited she looks today."

Lillian squeezed her purse tightly ,l thought it would choke.

"She's creative. Something your Helena might try, if she ever got a spot of dirt on those perfect little shoes."

Helena, the girl in blue, stood stiffly beside her mother, not a hair out of place.

She held her dog's leash like it was a wand in one of Enzo's magic shows.

Meanwhile, Charlie had already scrambled up, her eyes locked on the fluffy dog. She forgot the worm, forgot the fired nanny, forgot everything except that ball of fluff.

"Puppy!" she gasped, and before anyone could say no, she zoomed over to Helena.

Helena's nose wrinkled up, but Charlie was already crouching down, cooing. "Can I pet him? What's his name? He's so fluffy!"

Helena looked at her mommy, who gave a tiny, tight nod. "His name is Sir Wellington," she said, all proper and stiff.

Watching from the sand, l slowly stood up.

Olivia was already on her feet, silent and still beside the slide, her eyes locked not on the dog—but on Margaret.

"l don't like her," Olivia whispered to me. l nodded.

"A big meanie with a sad dress."

"Well," Margaret said lightly, "it seems the children are eager to play. How... democratic."

Lillian's smile didn't reach her eyes. "Children are so refreshingly blind to politics, aren't they?"

That's when Ollie grabbed my hand.

And Charlie's who was holding Helena 's.

"COME," Ollie whispered, already pulling us.

Our legs were short and the grass was bumpy. Charlie was hiccupping. I was laughing. Ollie was just running, her dark hair flying behind her like a flag. Helena was barely keeping up.

We didn't get far—just to the big tree with the droopy leaves—before we all fell down in a pile of giggles and grass stains.

Huh-huh-huh. Charlie was crying and laughing at the same time. "We wan away!"

I grinned, mud on my teeth. "We fast!"

Ollie peeked through the leaves. "Safe now."

"My tummy feels funny" Helena gasped ,breathing heavily.

A few minutes later, Lia came with ice pops. The red and yellow kind that make your tongue funny colors. She gave us that look—the "you caused drama but you're cute so it's fine" look.

We sat under the tree, licking our sweet sticks. Mine was sweet and minty. It dripped on my shirt. I didn't care.

"I'm Charlie," she said suddenly, pointing at herself.

"Juju," I told her, tapping my chest.

"l am Helena" she said ,puffing her chest out a bit.

We both looked at Ollie. She looked at her green sweet stick, then at us. A tiny, tiny smile touched her mouth.

"Ollie," she said, mouth full of ice.

Charlie's whole face lit up. "Ollie, Juju, Charlie and Helena."

I held up my sticky hand. "Fwiends."

Ollie looked at my hand. Then, slowly, she put her sticky hand on top. Charlie put hers on top too. And Charlie grabbed Helena 's clean gloved hand and put it on top.

Our hands were a pile. Sticky and dirty and together.

We stared at each other like this was very important information.

"I like mud," Charlie announced, her voice loud and happy. "And chocolate. And Sir Wellington." She pointed to the fluffy white dog now sniffing at Olivia's shoes. "And oooooh—Mr. Wiggle Butts!"

She clapped her hands together, sending little bits of dried dirt flying into the air. One piece landed on my sleeve. I didn't brush it off.

"I like running," Ollie said.

"l like my dog," Helena said ,her head held up high.

"I like ice ," I said.

We nodded. Agreement reached.

"But," Helena started ,picking mud from her too blue dress ,"l don't play with babies."

We stared at her.

Charlie 's smile ran away. Ollie narrowed her eyes. My ice pop dripped onto my knee.

Who was she calling her a baby?

l was a big girl who finished all her veggies even yucky broccoli. Ugh!

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She stood up, brushing her dress like it was covered in spiders. "I'm going back to Mother."

She marched off, Sir Wellington trotting behind like a little cloud.

We sat in the grass.

Charlie's lip wobbled. "We're not babies."

Olivia didn't say anything. She just dug in her pocket—the one with the loose string—and pulled out a broken crayon. Blue.

She started drawing on a big leaf.

First a circle. Then three stick figures inside.

She pointed.

"You. You. Me."

Then she drew a bigger circle around them.

And outside that circle... she drew a tiny girl with curly hair and a dog.

"Her."

She poked the tiny girl with the crayon. Hard.

The leaf tore.

Charlie's eyes got wide. "Ollie... did you just..."

Olivia looked up. Her face was quiet. Serious.

"She's outside."

And I understood.

Helena wasn't just mean.

She was outside.

And we were inside.

Together.

Path 2: The Grown-Ups Close In

We were still looking at the torn leaf when Funny Hairs cleared his throat.

"Miss Juliet. Time to go."

I shook my head. "No."

"Your brother is on his way."

Oh.

Oh no.

Ijah only comes early when something's wrong.

Olivia stood up fast. Her eyes snapped toward the gate.

She didn't look scared—she looked... ready. Like a mouse when it hears a cat.

"Ollie?" Charlie whispered.

Olivia looked back at us. For one second, her face wasn't a kid's face. It was old. Tired.

"Don't tell," she whispered.

"Don't tell what?"

"About the leaf. About... me."

Then she turned and walked away, not toward the slide or the swings—toward the back fence, where the shadows were thick and the grass was tall.

Charlie grabbed my hand. "Where's she going?"

I didn't know.

But I knew Ijah's car was coming.

And I knew Olivia didn't want to be here when it arrived.

The Invitation

Charlie's eyes were still shiny. "We're not babies," she said again, like saying it would make it true.

Then her face lit up.

"I know! Come to my house! We have a big pool. And a pony. Well, a pony statue. But it's big!"

Olivia froze.

"Your house?"

"Yeah! We can have a playdate! Mommy won't mind."

Olivia's eyes got dark. "My uncle won't like that."

"Why?"

"He says... rich houses have eyes."

Charlie tilted her head. "Like... windows?"

Olivia shook her head slowly. "Like... cameras. And listening things."

I thought of Leo's tablets. The little blinking lights in our hallways.

"We have those too," I said quietly.

Olivia looked at me. Really looked.

"Yeah," she whispered. "You do."

And in that moment, I knew she wasn't talking about Charlie's house.

She was talking about mine.

And I wondered...

How did Olivia know about our blinking lights?

Path 4: The Bite Mark Comes Back

We were still sitting in our circle when a shadow fell over us.

Penelope stood there, her hand wrapped in a big white bandage.

Next to her was a man in a suit, holding a phone.

"That's her," Penelope said, pointing at Olivia. "The biter."

Olivia didn't move.

The man smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

Olivia didn't answer.

"She's Olivia," Charlie said, chin up. "And you're being mean."

The man's smile didn't move. "I just want to talk to her grown-up. Where's your mommy, Olivia?"

Olivia's eyes went to the fence. Then back to the man.

"At town," she said softly.

"Daddy?"

"Heaven."

Ijah says heaven is up. But Ollie's eyes looked down.

The man's smile finally faded. He looked at Penelope, then back at Olivia.

"Who takes care of you?"

Olivia's voice was a ghost.

"My uncle."

"And where is he?"

Olivia pointed toward the street.

"Working."

The man nodded slowly. He took out a notebook.

"What's his name, honey?"

Olivia went very, very still.

And I knew—without knowing how I knew—that she wasn't supposed to answer that.