It was just another normal working day in the LewisTech corporation, Daniel sat behind his towering desk, fingers gliding across his keyboard when a series of back-to-back email pings lit up his screen. Subject lines from Betty's therapists and instructors popped in sharp order:
"Missed session notice – Dr. Khalil"
"Routine Disruption Alert"
"Therapy Cancellation - Reason Unspecified"
His jaw flexed.
Then a call came in. Dr. Harris, the chief therapist.
"Mr. Lewis, I just wanted to check if there's a change of protocol. We've had two cancellations this week and one unstructured session…"
"There is no change," Daniel replied sharply. "Who gave such instruction?"
"We assumed the new governess, Esther, was operating under your direction…"
Click.
His chair scraped back harshly against the floor as he stood. A storm already brewing behind his eyes.
How dared she operate without his permission, and how dare the others didn't inform him.
His steps hard and fast as he walked passed the lobby and Sarah's calls.
"Mr Lewis, Mr Lewis" she called but to no responded.
The man was dent in fury , his ego scratched and authority challenged.
In a blink of an eye, he was at the premises of his Lewis mansion.
"Mather!" His voice echoed through the hallway like thunder.
Mather hurried in, clipboard clutched like a shield. "Yes, sir?"
Daniel's cold stare pinned her. "Why am I just hearing about missed therapy sessions? Disrupted routines? Who approved the changes?"
Mather paled. "Sir… I,I was going to tell you…"
"That's not an answer."
With the pressure mounting, Mather stammered. "Miss Esther… she said the child was exhausted. She insisted on giving her breaks, more playtime, reducing some pressure…"
"You let her decide that?" Daniel's voice dropped, deadly calm now.
"I.., she seemed to connect with Betty. The child laughed for the first time in weeks. I thought maybe…"
Daniel stepped back as if Mather's words struck him.
This wasn't just about routines anymore, it was about someone breaking his system. One he'd clung to ever since his wife died. And now this young, bold stranger was unraveling it under his roof.
His fists clenched.
"Where is she"
And boom!
"What's this I hear from Mather and the other specialists about you changing Betty's schedules and routines?" Daniel's voice came sharp, less of a question and more of a verdict.
Esther froze, straightening up from the barstool as if facing a judge. The air around him was icy, and she could almost hear the gavel slamming in his tone.
"I was going to talk to you about it," she began carefully.
"Listen, girl, you don't get to talk to me about anything." His words cut with precision, shutting down her attempt at explanation. "You were hired to take care of my daughter, not to mess with the carefully planned routines laid out to help her."
Esther swallowed hard. This was the storm she knew would come. But she wasn't going to let it wash her away.
"Sir, if you could just hear me out… I honestly don't think these routines and tight schedules are good for her mental health," she tried again, softer this time.
"Those routines were crafted by specialists, qualified people with experience. You're barely done with your studies. You don't get to change anything. You obey and follow," Daniel thundered, his voice booming with the weight of control and frustration.
But Esther was no puppet.
She wasn't going to stand here and fold.
"Mr. Lewis," she said, her voice steady, her shoulders squared. "I believe you hired me because you saw something in me. A trust. A capability. I'm not here to disrespect your love for your daughter, but if you want a robot who just follows orders, then you hired the wrong girl."
His eyes narrowed.
"Betty is my child. I know what's best for her."
Esther stepped forward, fire in her voice. "No, sir. You think you do, but you don't. A nine-year-old girl crushed under constant routines and therapies, and you call that care? It's control. It's exhausting. For her. For everyone. I've only been here a week, and I'm already breaking under it. Can you imagine what she's felt for years?"
Daniel clenched his jaw, but she didn't stop.
"I know you want a cure. I know you want her voice back. But this, this regime you've built, it's not healing her. It's silencing her more. And if you're wondering why she hasn't said anything… it's because the voice you gave her, the tablet, even that is ruled by your permission."
Silence.
Esther took a breath. Her heart thundered. Her hands trembled, but she stood her ground.
Then she turned and walked out, leaving Daniel stunned, stuck between his anger and the unsettling ring of truth.
He stood there, jaw clenched, fists tightening at his sides. The echo of her words filled the cold silence around him.
And for the first time in a long time, he felt… wrong.
"You know she's right," Lady Bell's voice pierced the silence from the corner. She had stood there, unseen, watching her brother get torn down and told off.
"Maybe it's time you eased up. All these years of therapies and routines, have they brought her voice back? Have they helped?"
Daniel's silence was answer enough.
"You hired that girl for a reason," Lady Bell said gently. "Let her do what she was hired for. She might just be what Betty needs."
Daniel's voice cracked, pain bleeding into every word. "I'm tired. Everyone thinks I'm cold… that I don't care. But I just want her to get better. To speak again. To call me Dad again…"
Lady Bell touched his arm. "We know, Daniel. But you're not helping her if you're not willing to change. Give Esther a chance."
It was late noon and had Esther fled to Lavet Academy. Not just for her teaching hours, but for air. For space. Because her chest still ached from that confrontation, and the job was spiraling far from what she'd imagined.
"Esther, can I have a word with you in my office?" Professor Turay called gently from the doorway.
She nodded, forcing a polite smile as she followed him and closed the door behind her.
"Mrs. Lewis called," he said.
That was all it took. The air left her lungs.
"I… I lashed out," Esther confessed, sinking into the chair offered. "He just wouldn't listen. The rules, the routines… they're not helping the child. They're suffocating her."
Professor Turay nodded, listening intently. "I take it your week's been hell."
Esther scoffed lightly. "More like a locked cage with gold bars. Everything's measured. Timed. Watched. And when I tried to help, he shot me down like I was nothing."
The professor watched her, hands folded neatly on the desk.
"It's understandable. You're young, but insightful. And pride often clashes with pride."
Esther blinked. "Pride?"
"You both believe you know what's best. Neither of you truly listened to the other. Had you told him beforehand what you planned to adjust, maybe he would've considered it. And had he been willing to hear you out, perhaps you wouldn't have exploded."
She looked down at her hands. He was right.
"You both were wrong," Professor Turay said kindly. "But your intentions were good. That's what matters now."
Esther sighed. "I just want to help the child. But he's a brick wall."
"Then chip at the wall slowly. Not with force, but with reason. Show him, not just tell him, that your way could work. Make peace with him. For the child's sake."
It was the first time she felt the weight lift. The guidance was honest and grounding.
"Thank you, Professor," she said softly, bowing her head in gratitude.
"And Esther?" he called as she reached the door. "Don't forget, the environment is everything. If you want to heal a child, heal the space around her too."