Gifted - Pieces of us

Chapter 1 - The start of something new

I stared at the flickering glow of my laptop screen, my fingers hovering over the keyboard, heart thumping in my chest. One wrong click, one stupid typo, and this might be my last chance. I had posted the babysitting ad on a whim, hoping someone—anyone—would give me a shot. The apartment behind me groaned with every gust of wind, peeling paint whispering secrets of the life I’d never asked for. I pressed “send” and waited..Minutes felt like hours. Then the notification popped up: a message from Frank Adler. He was looking for someone to help care for a little girl—Mary. I read his words over and over, disbelief mingling with a fluttering hope. This could be it. My chance to escape, even if only for a while, the cold apartment, the empty fridge, the endless silence that followed me like a shadow. I hesitated, staring at the blank walls around me. My past wasn’t something I wanted to share with anyone—how could I tell him about the night my father…about how I lost my mother? No. He didn’t need to know that. All I needed was this job. I needed the money. I needed…something that felt like normal. Something warm. I typed my reply, my fingers trembling slightly: “I’d love to help. When can we meet?” The cursor blinked. My life was about to change, whether I was ready or not. The next day I arrived at the modest apartment building, my backpack clutched tightly against my chest. My stomach twisted nervously—this was it. The chance to step out of my old apartment, away from the smells of damp and decay, into somewhere that felt…alive. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Frank Adler opened it almost immediately, a kind but cautious smile on his face. He stood in the doorway, one hand still resting on the handle as if he had opened the door and then simply…forgotten to move. His light-blue eyes were glowing as he looked at me. His dark hair was slightly messy but still looked good tho. He was taller than I expected, his eyes carrying that quiet weight of someone used to responsibility, someone who had already seen too much. His eyes met mine, and something in his expression shifted—subtle, almost invisible, but unmistakable. Not surprise. Not confusion. Something closer to being suddenly unprepared. “You must be Sarah,” he said, though his voice came a fraction later than it should have. “Yes,” I answerd softly. He extended his hand. I placed mine in his, expecting a quick, polite shake—but his fingers closed around mine and stayed there. Not tightly. Not deliberately. Just…lingering. His gaze had changed. It wasn’t the look of someone interviewing a babysitter anymore. It was as if something had caught him off guard, as if he were trying to understand a thought that had arrived too quickly. His thumb shifted slightly against my hand, and I realized he still hadn’t let go. A faint warmth crept into my cheeks. I moved my fingers just enough to remind him, and he seemed to come back to himself all at once. “Sorry,” he said quietly, releasing my hand, the smallest trace of embarrassment crossing his face before his usual composure returned. “Come in. Thanks for coming on such short notice.” “Yeah…of course,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. I wanted him to see me as capable—not as the girl who still counted on her fingers sometimes, who had spent years hiding how much numbers confused her.

***

Frank closed the door behind me, and for a second the air between us felt strangely still. I stepped a little further inside, adjusting the strap of my backpack on my shoulder. I could feel his eyes on me—not in a rude way, not exactly—but in a way that made me suddenly aware of how fast my heart was beating. “You can sit,” he said, gesturing toward the kitchen table. “Thank you,” I replied softly, sitting down carefully on the chair, trying not to look as nervous as I felt. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him watching me. Not speaking. Just… looking. When I glanced up, our eyes met for a split second—and something in his expression flickered. It wasn't the calm, responsible look he had when he opened the door. It was different. Almost startled. He looked away quickly, rubbing the back of his neck as if trying to reset himself. Did I do something wrong? I wondered, my stomach tightening. I smoothed my skirt unconsciously, suddenly hyper-aware of myself. I hadn't tried to look special. I hadn't tried to impress him. I just wanted the job. And yet there was something in the way he kept catching himself looking at me—like he hadn't expected me. He cleared his throat. “Sorry. Long day.” “It's okay,” I said quietly. But I could feel it—the subtle shift in the room. Like I had somehow distracted him without meaning to. Like he was trying very hard to stay focused on being professional, while something about me—something I didn't even understand—had thrown him slightly off balance. And I had no idea why.  My heart was beating a little faster than it should have. I didn't know why that brief moment had felt so intense, only that something unspoken had passed between us—something I couldn't name, and something I wasn't sure either of us fully understood yet. Frank took a slow breath, as if forcing himself back into the moment, then pulled a chair slightly away from the table and sat across from me. “So…Sarah,” he said, folding his hands together, “tell me a little about yourself. Have you babysat before?” I hesitated. Not because I didn't want to answer—but because I didn't know how honest I was supposed to be. “A few times,” I said carefully. “Mostly neighbors' kids. Homework help, cooking simple meals… things like that.” He nodded, listening closely, his expression now much more focused. Yet every now and then his gaze lingered just a fraction too long before he looked away again, like he kept catching himself drifting. “This job wouldn't be complicated,” he continued. “Mary is…special. Very bright. Curious. Sometimes a little lost in her own world. She needs someone patient.” “I can be patient,” I said quickly, then added more quietly, “I like helping with homework too.” A faint smile touched his lips. “That's good. She asks a lot of questions.” For a moment, silence settled between us again—not hostile, just slightly awkward. I could hear the faint ticking of a wall clock and distant traffic outside the building. I folded my hands in my lap so he wouldn't see how nervous they were. Frank leaned back slightly, studying me again, though now his expression was softer, more thoughtful. “You seem… calm,” he said. “That's important here.” “I try to be,” I replied. Then, after a moment, I tilted my head slightly. “What about you?" “Me?” “What do you do?” I asked. “You seem like someone who has had at least three careers already." That surprised a laugh out of him. “Three? That's generous.”  “Was I close?” He rested an elbow on the table. “Well, before I was taking care of Mary, I was a professor of philosophy at Boston University.” I blinked. “Seriously?” “Seriously.” He smiled. “I had an office, too. Very important. Had a plant that I forgot to water for an entire semester.” I couldn't help it—I laughed softly.