Things went smoother than expected at the kindergarten.
The director took one look at Luna and smiled."A relative? She has such a clean presence."
Kids swarmed her instantly—honest, chaotic, unfiltered.
"You smile like a cartoon!"
Luna flushed, her eyes curving into bright crescents. Sunlight wrapped around her, soft and seamless, as if she'd always belonged there.
She was hired on the spot.
From that day on, I came home each evening to a showroom-flat apartment and a hot meal waiting on the table. It was more comfortable than living with my parents. And with seventy dollars in my pocket, the arrangement felt unreal—but I didn't question it.
—
On her third day, my parents arrived unannounced.
I opened the door to laughter and the sizzle of oil.
My mother stood at the stove, chopping vegetables. Luna stirred a pot beside her, the two of them smiling as if they'd known each other for years.
My father looked up from the couch."You're late," he said—but his voice was easy, already settled into this new rhythm.
"Dinner in five," Luna said, glancing at me. Her smile was warm, familiar—almost mine.
My mother squeezed my hand."We were worried the wedding plans would wear you out."
She glanced around, eyes widening."We almost walked into the wrong apartment."
"Live-in help," I whispered.
"That must cost a fortune."
"She pays me."
My mother's hand flew to her mouth.
They tasted the food—and froze.
Then came the looks, the nods, the quiet this is incredibles. Praise stacked neatly, like clean dishes.
After dinner, Luna massaged my mother's shoulders with hands that knew exactly where to press.
My father held out his teacup before I'd even sat down.
He turned to Luna."Thoughtful girl. Your parents must be proud."
"I'm an orphan," she said softly.
The room stilled.
All the warmth in the air shifted direction—flowing toward her, gathering around her like light around a flame.
My father refilled her tea before mine.My mother patted the couch beside her. "Sit here, dear."
And I stood in the doorway, still holding my keys.
—
Later that night, my phone rang—a high school reunion.
My mother's voice was gentle, certain."Take Luna. Safer that way."
I expected her to hesitate.
Instead, her eyes lit up."Can I?"
At the KTV, classmates spotted us immediately.
"Evelyn! Who's your friend?"
"She's so sweet!"
A few guys leaned in, curious, smiling.
Something tightened in my chest.
"She's my housekeeper," I said flatly.
A beat of silence.
"Ahh."
Interest drained. Conversations turned. Shoulders angled away.
Everyone had liked her.
Now, just as easily, they looked away.
I turned to Luna—
and froze.
She was still smiling.
Same curve.Same warmth.Exactly as before.
She was looking at me.