When the Wind Chimes - Mary Ting Page 0,39

the fridge. A silver baking tray sat on a tidy shelf, and I pulled it out to sniff. Not only had she seasoned the chicken, she’d left me simple baking instructions and the times to put it in the oven and when to take it out.

“You are good at your job, Mona,” I said.

Having time to kill, I washed the frying pan and a few dishes. Then I roamed about downstairs, opening all the doors. There was a fitness room Mona hadn’t showed me before. The last door led to a laundry room as big as my sister’s family room. Then when I thought I knew every nook and cranny of the first floor, I went to the second.

I took the sweeping staircase and glanced between the left and right hall. The left led to the master bedroom Mona hadn’t offered to show me the last time I was here, and the right led to the other rooms.

I gravitated toward the left. No one had told me I couldn’t go in Leonardo’s room. A quick peek wouldn’t hurt. Besides, I was the nanny and I needed to know every inch of this mansion.

Just as I swung the door open, I wondered if there were cameras in the house. I also wondered if Leonardo had some kind of app on his phone to monitor the cameras that might be scattered about. Some of my friends had doggie cameras. They’d shown me the funny things their pets did when owners weren’t around. Not only could they monitor the rooms, but they could broadcast their voices through a smart speaker.

Too late.

My pulse kicked up, but I told myself Leonardo was on his private plane and too busy to spy on me. Bridget wasn’t even home yet, and Leonardo had things to do, like not be late for his meeting. Wherever he was going. I hadn’t even asked—not that I needed to know.

There was no portrait in his neatly made master bedroom. Only the king-size bed, cherry-wood dresser to the right, a large flat screen television across from the bed, and a painting hung to the left.

I marveled at the painting, so familiar that I knew every detail of the colors and strokes. I went closer and sure enough, my signature was on the right corner.

Leonardo had bought my painting? He thought my painting was worth hanging in his bedroom? I couldn’t believe this.

I’d felt like half of me was missing when Abby had told me she’d sold it a couple of years ago in New York, but she hadn’t told me who had bought it. But then again, I hadn’t known Leonardo then. If she had told me the buyer’s name, it wouldn’t have meant anything.

An artist pours their heart and soul into their craft, and it was always difficult to part with any creation, but this one, My Soulmate, meant the most to me.

I recalled the night that had given me the inspiration for the piece. The night sky had been filled with stars and I’d pulled over on my way home to study them.

The leftmost star was me, and the farthest right star was my soulmate, whoever he might be. I’d once believed it was Jayden. How wrong I had been. I wasn’t sure if I believed in soulmates anymore.

Abby had sold a handful of my paintings before, but never to someone I knew. It felt strange knowing he had my favorite.

Do I tell him?

Feeling like I had overstepped my boundaries, I made my way out and shut the door. I went to Bridget’s room next, which was awash with sunshine, the window facing the grand backyard.

The giant stuffed unicorn with a rainbow-colored horn still sat at the back corner, and her pink unicorn bedding hadn’t changed. I’d half-expected the room to be transformed into something entirely different.

Dainty white furniture embellished her room. The bed, the dresser, a desk, and a bookcase were all the same as before, only now there were photos on her dresser. One was of Bridget and a beautiful woman. She must be her mother. They both had the same blue eyes, blonde hair, and similar features. I’d thought the woman I had seen at the plaza was his wife, but the women looked nothing alike.

The second photo was of the three of them, Bridget, Leonardo, and the woman. They were at the beach, and they looked so happy. I wondered what had happened.

Most couples shared custody after a divorce, shuttling the kid back and forth from