Michael sighed, setting the jar back down. “I know you care for Emily,” he said evenly. “But her diet is not open to improvisation. Every ingredient matters. You must follow the guidelines exactly.”
Gloria nodded, her expression full of remorse. “Yes, Mr. Whitmore. I promise this won’t happen again.”
He studied her for a moment longer before softening. “Good. That’s all I ask. I need to know I can trust you with her care.”
Lifting Emily into his arms, he felt the small child snuggle into his shoulder, blissfully unaware of the tension that had filled the room moments earlier. Relief mixed with unease—Emily seemed fine, but the encounter had rattled him.
As he carried her out of the nursery, Michael resolved to keep a closer eye on everything that happened under his roof. Gloria’s actions might have been innocent, but the situation reminded him of a truth he could never escape: a father’s vigilance was the first and last line of defense for the one person he loved most.
