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.