Chapter 2 Three months earlier

3 months earlier...

CORA SAT COLORING with little Timmy when his parents started up in the other room. Again.

"You know I hate this shit, Diana. I don't see why I have to go."

"Maybe because I expect my husband to support me when my firm wins a big case!"

Cora grabbed her phone and turned on the playlist Timmy loved best. He was three years old and apart from the occasional tantrum, he was a sweetheart. It wasn't his fault his parents didn't know how to use their inside voices.

The opening strains of I'm Walking on Sunshine started pounding out of her phone's surprisingly good speakers, drowning out the parental dramatics in the other room.

"Rolly monster time!" Cora said, grabbing Timmy out of his chair and lifting him in the air. Whew, she was getting some serious ab and arm muscles out of this job.

Timmy giggled and she breathed out in relief. Distraction managed.

She put Timmy on the floor and he immediately assumed the position, laying down on his back in the center of the

play room. Cora cleared out the toys around him so he had a clear space to move and wouldn't hurt himself by rolling over stray Legos and magnatiles.

"Cora rolly monster, too," he demanded, except he couldn't say his 'r's so it came out sounding like 'Cowa wowy monsta too.'

Cora pursed her lips like she was thinking about it, but she grinned and dropped to the ground, lying down next to him.

"You ready?" she asked. "Yes!"

"All right. Staaaaaaaaaaaaaart rolling!"

They both started rolling across the floor. The giggles began immediately. The playroom was huge, especially considering the Donahues lived in the prime real estate of the Upper East End. They could a ord a live-in nanny like Cora, so they obviously weren't hurting when it came to the bank account. Too bad the money didn't seem to be able to buy them happiness.

Timmy finally reached the wall and Cora kept on rolling until her body smashed into his. "Uh oh! Collision! You know what this means."

Timmy squealed when she started tickling him.

"You gotta escape and start rolling again. That's the only way out."

She shifted him so he could wriggle over the top of her and o the other side. He started to roll away.

"Chase me. Chase me, Co-wa!"

"Oh I'm coming." She gave him a fair head start before rolling, her long blonde hair catching crazy static electricity the more she did it.

As she finished a roll and started to twist into another, she caught sight of a figure standing in the door and yelped.

"Daddy!" Timmy cried. "Daddy, come play wowy monsta with us!"

Cora yanked down the hem of her shirt that had ridden up and got to her feet.

Mr. Donahue was looking at her, not his son. He was in his mid-forties, an architect who was always well-dressed and put together, if a little overly fond of hair gel. He was holding a glass of scotch. "Looks like you can have the night o after all. I decided not to go out."

"Oh." Cora blinked. "Thanks." She had asked for the night o a couple of days ago. Some of her friends, fellow nannies she'd met at the park when she took Timmy every day, had invited her out. But Mrs. Donahue told her no because her firm was having some celebratory dinner

tonight. Which apparently Mr. Donahue had just begged o

from. Eeek. As desperately as she needed this job, the family dynamics could get seriously weird sometimes.

But who was she to judge family dynamics? Her and her mom qualified for the screwed-up family Olympics.

"Daddy. Daddy!" Timmy ran up and started tugging on Mr. Donahue's pants leg. "Come play."

Cora looked between Timmy and Mr. Donahue. He was always asking her to call him Paul but she preferred Mr. Donahue.

"Are you sure it'd be okay?" she asked, eyes flicking toward the door. Mr. Donahue noticed and glowered, taking a swig of his scotch.

"Go. Have a good time. You're young. You deserve a gods damned night o now and then." She flinched at his tone and he paused and ran a hand down his face. "Jesus, I'm sorry. Seriously. I'll put Timmy to bed." He o ered a tired smile. "You're o cially o duty."

Cora bobbed her head. "Thanks. I really appreciate it."

She hadn't done much else other than work, aka, spend time with Timmy, since she got to the city six weeks ago.

As much as she loved the little guy, she'd come to the city because she wanted to live bigger. To see the world. To have friends.

To live free.

She bent down and gave Timmy a kiss on the head. "See you tomorrow, monster."

He made a roaring noise and she made one back.

She snagged her phone and hurried out of the room and up the stairs to shower and get ready.

She texted Helena when she got to her room: I CAN COME TONIGHT AFTER ALL!

It was several minutes before Helena texted back. WE'RE MEETING AT THE STYX AT 10.

Ten? She was usually in bed by ten. Timmy was usually jumping on her face at five-thirty in the morning. Some days earlier.

Her thumbs moved clumsily over her phone screen. Unlike her peers, she hadn't grown up with a cell phone glued to her side. She was still getting used to all the marvels of technology. Back at the farm, they hadn't even had TV. Much less internet or cell phones. No, mom wouldn't dare have any of the outside world corrupt her daughter.

Cora shook her head angrily and hit send on the message. SOUNDS GREAT. SEE YOU THERE.

She pushed play on the music again, leaving it on the Timmy playlist. Smashmouth's All Star came on.

Let go of the past. She wasn't on the farm anymore. She was in the big city. Living on her own. She had a job, a cell phone, friends and now a night out on the town. This was what life was supposed to be.

Her head started bopping along to the music. Then her hips. Then she was dancing around the room and laughing,

arms spread wide. She was free.

And tonight she'd go dancing and maybe meet a cute boy. The whole world was in front of her and she was ready to meet it, arms wide open.