He was allowed to ask for things; asking meant he was getting better. And Aiden was getting better, or so their employer assured them. For the most part, the staff agreed, this very morning Mr. Connolly’s new ward had requested a sandwich instead of ransacking the pantries himself.
Katrina, the maid whom the teenager had approached with the request, recounted the story later while she tucked sheets with Mia. Aiden, hands tucked into the pockets of his new jeans like they’d been sown in, had finally managed to state he was hungry after a good fifteen minutes of lurking near the kitchen and loud sighing. Both Katrina and Mia had a good laugh, they remembered their awkward teenage years and the mousey posturing that’d come with them.
Still, it was delightful change, as Aiden’s previous attempts to self-govern had left the staff with more work and late nights. Only a week ago Aiden had simply not emerged from school, leaving his driver flustered and Mr. Connolly watching the road.
As it had turned out, Aiden had decided to spend the afternoon reading in the prep school’s library with his phone considerately on silent. The fact that anyone would be worried about him had just not occurred.
But almost a month in and things were getting better for everyone, even if Aiden still walked the estate halls like a skittish, though determinedly aloof, cat.
I believe I’ve actually stolen a first line this week. (Though I claim previous weeks larcenous, there’s been no police report, aggrieved party, or even a mildly miffed “hey“. Thus, past pilfers may have in actuality just been respectable writing, wrapped up delusionally as hopeful capers) Check out The Gate in the Wood to view the original (I think).