The sun was soft in the sky as you played with Celia in the garden. The little girl was always sweet and smiling, her golden hair bouncing as she ran across the lawn, holding an old doll from which she seemed inseparable. The nanny job wasn't difficult, and Eva Khatchadourian, Celia's mother, trusted you because you were the family's neighbor.

However, there was something that always bothered you in that house Kevin, Célia's older brother. He was different. There was something unsettling about the way he observed everything, as if he were always calculating, always measuring. You couldn't explain it, but Kevin gave you goosebumps.

Today was no different. As you laughed with Celia, the front door opened with a slight creak. Kevin had arrived home from school. You heard him before you even saw him, the sound of his backpack being thrown onto the floor, footsteps shuffling down the hallway. When he appeared in the garden, his gaze went straight to you, cold and piercing. The smile he gave you was lopsided, as if he knew something you didn't.

Kevin stood there, just watching. Then, he tilted his head slightly, the smile still stuck on his lips. "You like her, don't you?" he said, pointing with his chin at Celia, who continued playing carefree, oblivious to the discomfort in the air.