“But it said not to contact law enforcement,” I replied.
“I know.”
She looked miserable.
“I should have refused.”
“What about the other nannies?”
“I spoke to two of them before the agency warned us not to communicate. Diane approached all of us.”
The pattern suddenly made sense.
Every sitter lasted a few days because Diane needed time to frighten them. The cameras showed nothing because she knew how to avoid them. Sophie never mentioned the visits because she believed seeing Grandma was normal.
When we returned home, Ben called his mother.
“Can you come over tomorrow?” he asked.
“Of course. Is something wrong?”
“No. We need help with Sophie.”
The ease in her voice made my skin crawl.
“I knew those sitters weren’t reliable,” Diane said. “I told you the agency was careless.”
After the call, Ben looked at me.
“She sounds like she believes she did nothing wrong.”
“Maybe she does.”
That was what frightened me most.
We contacted two other former babysitters.
One refused to speak.
Another, named Julia, agreed after Carla assured her we knew the truth.
Julia’s story matched Carla’s almost exactly.
Diane showed her old medical records, distorted photographs, and audio clips from the months after Sophie was born.
