Chapter 1 1. THREE WEEKS EARLIER Amy's phone went dead shortly before sunset. "Oh no..." She slowed the car, driving with one hand and pressing the button on the side of her phone with the other. "Don't give up on me, phone." But the screen remained black. The charging port in her secondhand car had broken long ago. You idiot , she berated herself. Why did you listen to music all the way down here? The answer was simple: she hadn't realized the journey would take this long. The ad had described the location as "peaceful and remote." It didn't say how remote. Google Maps had estimated that Amy's journey, from Dublin to the farthest tip of West Cork, would take five hours. She had been driving for well over six. Google didn't account for how winding and underdeveloped the roads were, for the wrong turns she would take, for the fact that she couldn't drive at the speed limit the entire way. The sun was dropping towards the horizon. Evening shadows were beginning to stretch over the land. And here she was, in a part of rural Ireland that was completely unfamiliar to her, with no map to guide her to her destination. Great. This is just great. She tossed her phone onto the passenger seat and continued driving down the narrow country road. It was a gray ribbon winding through green fields, running along one of the great peninsulas that formed the southwest coast of Ireland. The landscape, wild and rugged, green and gray, felt strange to Amy, who'd lived her whole life in a city. To her right, the mountainous spine of the peninsula rose like the back of some gargantuan sea creature. To her left, the ocean shimmered under the evening sun. On the road ahead, she saw a woman walking, a black dog trotting by her side. Thank God. Someone to ask for directions. She pulled up beside her and lowered her window. "Hi," she said. "I'm looking for a house called Sea View, outside a village called Knockcrea." The woman, who was fiftyish and blonde, wore walking gear and an unsmiling expression. "Just keep driving, keep the sea on your left. You'll see it. It stands out." "Great," said Amy. "Thank you." "You a friend of the Carrolls?" the woman asked. "Not exactly," Amy replied. "I'm going to work for them. I'm their new nanny-slash-housekeeper." A strange expression slid across the woman's face. "Oh." She nodded a couple of times. "Well, you're nearly there. Can't miss it." Amy felt a stab of reticence. There was something in the woman's tone she didn't like. But she thanked her, rolled up her window, and continued to drive. A kilometer or so on, she took a bend in the road and saw the Carrolls' house for the first time. "Wow," she said aloud. The woman was right: you couldn't miss it. Futuristic and sleek, a half-cylinder wonder of modern architecture, all curved lines and gleaming floor-to-ceiling glass, Sea View looked completely out of place against the remote, rugged landscape. This far-flung corner of West Cork was sparsely populated, and the only other buildings in sight were modest farmhouses and cottages. There was something almost distasteful about the ostentatious home, its overt display of wealth. When Amy had come across the ad last week while scrolling through job websites, it had been obvious the Carrolls were using their house as an attraction. A live-in position... Housekeeper/nanny/mother's helper... The successful candidate will have an en suite bedroom in our modern home... The successful candidate will be treated like a member of the family. Multiple photos were included in the ad: the bedroom, the view, the location. Amy had seen more images of the house when she found the mother, June Carroll, on social media. But none of it had prepared her for seeing it in real life. She felt fresh nerves twisting her stomach. This would be her first meeting with the family. June had interviewed her on the phone and had seemed nice enough. But Amy had no idea what June's husband, Miles, was like, nor the two children. All she knew was that Tom was three and Poppy was two, that they were cute and blond (that much was apparent from June's Instagram), and that their parents needed an extra pair of hands around the house. ( No wonder , she thought, looking at the size of it. It would be no small feat to keep that place sparkling.) She also suspected, from several hints June had dropped, that they were having trouble finding someone who was willing to come all the way to this remote place. Aside from that, Amy had no idea what she was walking into. She pulled into the long gravel driveway and parked her shabby little Renault Clio next to a sleek black BMW and a white Range Rover. The house loomed above her: tall, sheer, intimidating. Although the front of the building was almost entirely glass, she couldn't tell whether anyone was watching her from inside. The blaze of the sinking sun bounced off the windows, creating an opaque orange glare. She checked her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her long black hair needed brushing. Her green eyes had deep shadows under them. Amy frowned critically, took a tube of concealer from her bag, and dabbed some under her eyes. She pulled a brush through her hair, put on some lip balm, and began mentally preparing for the performance of meeting a new employer. Taking a deep breath, she got out of the car. She took her bag from the boot, walked up to the door of Sea View, and rang the bell. Seconds ticked towards a minute. Nobody answered. Amy looked around at the mountains, at the sea, then back at the door. Should she ring again? Before she could, it was opened by a man in his early fifties. He was an inch or two shorter than she was and almost entirely bald. He smiled broadly at her. "Hello, hello! Amy, I presume? Miles Carroll. Pleasure to meet you." He grabbed her hand in his, which was slightly sweaty, and shook it. "Welcome to Sea View." Excerpted from Someone You Trust by Rachel Ryan All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
