The nanny stepped forward, her hands shaking so badly she nearly dropped the glass she was holding.
“No…” she whispered. “That can’t be real.”
The boy stood still now, as if afraid even breathing might break something important.
The woman narrowed her eyes at the charm.
“Explain,” she demanded sharply.
But her voice wasn’t as steady anymore.
The nanny’s lips trembled.
“That charm…” she said, tears already forming. “It was buried with your child.”
A collective gasp ripped through the guests.
The woman froze.
For the first time that night — she didn’t look powerful.
She looked like the floor had disappeared beneath her.
Her eyes snapped to the boy.
Really looked at him.
Not as a mistake.
Not as an intrusion.
But as something she couldn’t explain away.
The boy’s voice came softer now.
“She said you left her alone… and that I had to find you before she was gone too.”
The woman’s breath broke.
“No…” she whispered, stepping back.
But the truth was already there.
Standing in front of her.
Alive.
