“What the hell is this?” Michael barked.
Emma startled, nearly losing her balance. When she turned, terror flooded her face. Her eyes widened—he was back three days early.
The babies sensed her fear and began to cry, loud and desperate.
“Sir—Mr. Harrington,” Emma stammered, dropping the shovel. “I didn’t know… you weren’t supposed to return until Friday.”
Michael advanced, irritation scraping his nerves raw.
“I pay you to keep this house spotless,” he snapped, pointing at the children. “Not to run a daycare. How long have you been bringing them here?”
“It’s the first time,” she pleaded. “Today I had no choice.”
One baby reached toward him, face wet with tears. The gesture unsettled him—and made him angrier.
“Make them stop,” he ordered. “Get them out. You’re fired. Pack your things and leave.”
Emma collapsed to her knees.
“Please,” she begged. “I’ll work harder. Don’t pay me this month. I have nowhere to go.”
Michael looked down at her, forcing his emotions shut.
“I won’t allow children here. Chemicals, tools—it’s irresponsible. What kind of mother does this?”
Emma lifted her chin, fear mixing with wounded pride.