Assistants don’t last long in the Dashiell house.
I didn’t come here to last.

When I first walked into the Dashiell house, everyone smiled.
It was a Tuesday.

Ethan’s welcome felt practiced. Lena’s kindness was measured. Their son watched from the landing with a silence that wasn’t shyness.

But before any of them looked at me, they looked at each other.

The flicker between them was quick and unspoken, gone before I could name it. It told me everything the interview hadn’t. This house had corridors where people listened behind closed doors. Bedrooms with notes tucked into drawers. A staircase people talked about carefully.

My job was to keep things running. Stay invisible. Manage what couldn’t be said out loud.

What I didn’t expect was how quickly the room would stop settling… or how Bianca, a girl with a dying father and no other options, would keep returning even after she should have run.

I didn’t touch anything at first. I just watched to see what shifted on its own.

And the strangest part wasn’t that they were watching me. It was how easily I found the space they always left.