She nods her head. “Once, a long time ago, yes.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Me too.”
She isn’t one for nostalgia. I can tell by the way she redirects the conversation. “Your first lie, Mrs. Anderson. Can you remember?”
I shrug and stare at myself on the screen. It’s scary how you always look different than you think. I really could use a touch up.
“I need you to speak slowly and carefully,” she tells me. “Don’t rush. And don’t leave anything out.”
* * *
“What if they don’t like me?” I asked my nanny. My Julia, with her wide hazel eyes and big round belly. Julia, with her caring hands, creaky knees, and soft heart.
“They are going to love you, Miss Mel,” she said. I can still remember her eyes glistening as she called me by my pet name. Julia was probably the only person I’ve ever genuinely lik
