The arrival of Ryan's parents, Eleanor and Charles Blackwood, was a whirlwind of activity. They arrived from Canada, their accents thick with the warmth of their homeland, their faces etched with a mixture of anticipation and concern. They had come to stay for a week, to attend the wedding of Ryan's cousin, Amara Johnson, and to see their son and granddaughter.
Sofia had been warned about the Blackwoods. The other maids had whispered tales of their demanding nature, their rigid expectations, their disdain for anyone who wasn't part of their exclusive circle. Sofia had tried to ignore the gossip, to focus on her job and her relationship with Lily. But now, facing them in the grand foyer, she couldn't help but feel a tremor of apprehension.
Eleanor Blackwood was a woman of imposing stature, her silver hair pulled back in a tight bun, her eyes sharp and piercing. Charles Blackwood was a man of quiet authority, his demeanor reserved, his gaze assessing. They greeted Sofia with a polite nod, their expressions polite but distant.
"It's good to finally meet you, Sofia," Eleanor said, her voice cool and measured. "We've heard so much about you from Ryan."
Sofia smiled politely. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Blackwood," she said. "I've been enjoying my time here with Lily."
"I'm sure you have," Eleanor said, her gaze lingering on Sofia's simple dress and her unassuming demeanor. "Ryan has been telling us how much Lily adores you."
Sofia felt a prickle of unease. She knew that Ryan had been talking about her, but she hadn't expected his parents to be so interested in her. She also sensed a subtle undercurrent of disapproval in Eleanor's tone.
The next few days were a blur of activity. The Blackwoods were a whirlwind of social engagements, attending parties, dinners, and receptions. Sofia was expected to be present at all times, to cater to their every whim. She found herself caught in a web of unspoken rules and expectations, a world that felt alien and uncomfortable.
One evening, as Sofia was preparing dinner for the family, Eleanor approached her, her face stern. "Sofia," she said, her voice clipped. "We've been hearing some things about you."
Sofia's heart skipped a beat. She knew what was coming. The other maids had been whispering about her, about her relationship with Ryan, about her supposed influence over him. She had tried to ignore the gossip, but it seemed that it had reached Eleanor's ears.
"What do you mean, Mrs. Blackwood?" Sofia asked, her voice steady, despite the tremor in her chest.
Eleanor's gaze was unwavering. "We've been told that you've been spending a lot of time with Ryan," she said, her voice dripping with disapproval. "We've also been told that you've been reading his personal journals."
Sofia felt a wave of anger wash over her. She had been trying to be a good nanny, to help Ryan through his grief, to be a source of comfort and support. But it seemed that her efforts had been misconstrued, her intentions twisted.
"I was just trying to understand him," Sofia said, her voice rising. "I was trying to help him."
"Help him?" Eleanor scoffed. "You're a nanny, Sofia. Your job is to care for Lily, not to meddle in Ryan's life."
Sofia's anger flared. "I'm not meddling," she said, her voice shaking with indignation. "I'm just trying to be a good person."
"Good people don't pry into other people's private lives," Eleanor said, her voice cold and cutting. "Good people don't try to manipulate others for their own gain."
Sofia was speechless. She had never been spoken to with such disdain, such disrespect. She felt a surge of anger, a desire to defend herself, to fight back. But she knew that she was outmatched, that she was fighting a losing battle.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Blackwood," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "I'll try to be more mindful of my place."
Eleanor nodded, her expression unreadable. "I suggest you do," she said, her voice a chilling reminder of her power. "Ryan's happiness is of the utmost importance to us, and we won't tolerate anyone who threatens it."
Sofia stood there, her heart pounding, her mind racing. She had been warned about the Blackwoods, but she had never imagined that they would be so cold, so ruthless.