The widowed millionaire’s twin sons weren’t eating anything until their new nanny did something unexpected and changed their lives forever. When Mariana gets out of the car in front of Ricardo Navarro’s enormous mansion, she feels a tingling of nerves and excitement. It’s not like any other house; it’s a house full of Silence.
Upon entering, she sees a long hallway, large paintings, high windows that let in light without warmth. The employees barely respond with a short hello, as if everything were normal, but she feels that there is something strange in the air. At that moment, Ricardo appears, a tall, well-dressed man with a frown slightly furrowed.

She doesn’t offer his hand, she just says good morning, and that’s enough to understand that she’s not in the mood for small talk. She introduces him to the children, Emiliano and Sofia, 8-year-old twins. He points them out without emotion and tells them that she’ll be their babysitter. She watches them closely, he with a blank stare, she with her arms crossed, both

Dressed the same, as if they were mirror images. Mariana gives them a shy smile and asks what they want for dinner. The children look at her and shrug. The girl says nothing.
The boy repeats the word nothing. Mariana’s heart sinks a little because this means her job won’t be what she imagined. Ricardo watches her and nods as if approving of something, but without emotion. Then she takes them all on a tour of the house. They enter the dining room, and she sees fine plates covered with

silver, a huge table with no food.
Then they go to the living room with comfortable-looking armchairs, but no one seems to have sat there for a while. In the garden there are old toys and a round table for eating outside that hasn’t been used either. The children walk past without looking.
The cookie flour that Mariana was planning two seconds ago slips her mind. As they walk, the nanny notes photos on the shelves. Ricardo and his wife Lucía together. Smiling, hugging each other. The children are just like Lucía, especially Sofía. Mariana feels a lump in her throat. When

They finish the tour. Ricardo tells her he’ll start at 8 tomorrow and leaves her alone with the children. Silently, alone with them for the first time.
He speaks to them again in a soft voice. He asks how they’re doing. Nothing, you just hear the echo of his voice in the hallway. That confirms to her that it’s not just a matter of hunger. Something happened at home. She leaves the room and sees Ricardo sitting in his office in the distance. He doesn’t look at her, but she feels his gaze.

head for a moment and continues on her way to the kitchen, thinking about what to do to get those children to eat.
Outside, as the sun goes down, the shadows grow across the mansion. And Mariana wonders if those threads of silence can be broken with her. She stares for a moment at a cookie that someone left unfinished on the counter. She brings it to her mouth and tastes it bland, but there is a spark of

Complicity in the simple gesture. Close your eyes.
This is just the beginning. Mariana changed quickly. No uniform, no need to look like a strict nurse or teacher. She chose comfortable jeans and a light-colored blouse. She tied her hair back and went down to the kitchen. There she met Chayo, the cook, a serious woman in her 60s with a deep voice.

Mariana introduced herself with a smile, but Chayo barely looked up from the vegetables she was chopping. “Why are you dressing up so much? The kids here don’t even notice you, and the man even less.” She blurted out without a filter. Mariana just laughed softly. She didn’t like the tone, but decided not to get involved. While Chayo

As the meal was finishing, Mariana asked how the children liked their food.
They liked rice with plantain, but that was when Lucía was alive. Chayo said without stopping. Mariana noticed that they liked it as if they didn’t like anything anymore. “And what did you eat yesterday?” she asked. Nothing. Mariana remained silent. Chayo didn’t seem worried. That’s how they are. They don’t eat. Since their mother died,

No one has made them eat. Five babysitters have already come by. They’ve all left.
Mariana was curious, but she didn’t want to seem nosy. She approached the table, cleaned the area a bit, and began setting out the plates. The dining room was enormous, with a hanging lamp that gave more shadow than light. She placed napkins with animal figures she found in a drawer.

Nothing too flashy, just an attempt to make the moment more pleasant. Ricardo showed up on time, dressed the same as he had that morning, elegant but soulless. He greeted us curtly, sat down at the front of the table, and checked his cell phone. Mariana set down the plates and called the children. They went downstairs leisurely, hand in hand.

hand. They sat opposite each other. No one spoke. Chayo served.
Rice, roasted chicken, and hot soup. The smell was good, but the children didn’t even look at him.

The silence

was heavy, but she didn’t give up. She stood up.
She went for an apple. She cut it into wedges. She arranged it in a star shape on a small plate and placed it between the two of them. It’s not real food, it’s a picture just to see if they can guess what it is. The children looked at the plate. One second. Two. Sofia reached out and arranged a wedge. Emiliano made another

motion.
They didn’t eat it, but they had already touched something. Chayo clicked his tongue. That’s not dinner, he murmured from the kitchen. Mariana ignored the comment. She sat there without saying anything else, just watching as the children, without speaking, arranged wedge by wedge into a kind of flower. When they finished, Sofia pushed the plate toward Mariana.
It’s a sun, she said. Emiliano nodded. Mariana smiled. It wasn’t food, but it was a first step. A sun made of apples in Milancien te, a house where everything was cold. Dinner ended with full plates, but for the first time someone spoke, even if only a little.

Mariana cleaned everything, washed the dishes, and as she was about to go upstairs, Chayo approached her. Don’t get attached, nothing changes here. Mariana just looked at her. “We’ll see,” she replied without raising her voice. She slowly climbed the stairs, knowing that what was coming would be more difficult than she imagined. The morning began

with the soft sound of birds outside, but nothing could be heard in the mansion, not a voice, not a laugh, not a complaint.
Mariana woke up early and went straight to the kitchen. Chayo was already there grinding coffee and cutting fruit with the same unfriendly expression. Mariana said, “Good morning,” but Chayo only raised an eyebrow. Mariana wasn’t intimidated; she prepared hot milk with a little cinnamon, toasted bread, and

placed everything on a tray.
She walked firmly up to the bedrooms, knocked on the twins’ bedroom door, waited a second, and then entered. They were already awake, sitting in bed, watching TV with the volume down. Mariana placed the tray on a low table. “There are no rules today,” she told them. They both turned to look at her. “We’re

going to do something different.”
” No one answered, but they didn’t ignore her either. Mariana signaled with her hand for them to follow her. They went downstairs in silence, past the enormous dining room, and straight into the kitchen. Chayo saw them and let out a dry laugh. They can’t be here. Mariana looked at her calmly. Today they can.

Chayo looked at her with wide eyes. That’s against the master’s rules. Mariana took a deep breath. “Then I’ll be gone.” And she continued on her way, with the children in tow. The kitchen was spacious, full of light, and with a large island in the center. Mariana took out flour, eggs, milk, and sugar. She put everything

on the table as if it were a game. Emiliano approached without touching anything. Sofía looked at her curiously.
Mariana gave them each a bowl. “We’re going to make pancakes, but you’re the chefs. I’m just helping.” They looked at each other, as if wondering if they could really do it. Sofía was the first to dip her hands into the flour. Emiliano dared to crack an egg, although he did it so hard that

he splashed his face. Mariana didn’t laugh, she just offered him a towel.
That’s what happens when you rush. It’s okay. Little by little, they loosened up, laughed softly, mixed, and tasted. The kitchen began to fill with a rich, different smell. Chayo watched them from the stove, arms crossed. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t leave. When they finished cooking, Mariana put the pancakes

on small plates and took them to the kitchen table, not the dining room.
She sat with them, gave them honey, banana slices, and a little whipped cream. Sofía looked doubtful. Emiliano twirled the fork in his hand. Mariana didn’t look at them directly, just ate hers. Calmly, as if everything were normal. Sofía was the first. She took a tiny piece. Mariana pretended not to notice. Then Emiliano did too. They didn’t say anything, but chewed.
Mariana almost burst into tears right there, but held it back. She just said, “It was very good.” They didn’t reply, but finished half of it. That’s when Ricardo walked in. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the scene. The three of them sitting in the kitchen, dirty dishes, flour on the table, children eating. Mariana looked at him without moving.
“Good morning,” he said. Sofía put down her fork. Emiliano stood still. Ricardo approached, serious. “What are you doing here?” Mariana stood up. “We’re having breakfast. The children cooked. It was my idea.” Ricardo looked at the children. They didn’t speak. “Did you cook?” Emiliano asked. He nodded. Sofía lowered her

eyes. Did they eat? This time they didn’t say anything. Only Mariana answered.
Yes, for the first time. Ricardo took a deep breath, looked at the table, and then at Mariana. That wasn’t in the plan. So what if it was in the plan? she asked quietly. Chayo chimed in from his corner. They’ve interfered where they shouldn’t. This isn’t a restaurant. Ricardo looked at her. It’s okay, Chayo. Just give us a

moment. The woman pursed her lips and left.
Mariana didn’t know if they were going to fire her right there. Ricardo stared at the plates. Then at the children. “Did you like it?”

The silence

was heavy, but she didn’t give up. She stood up.
She went for an apple. She cut it into wedges. She arranged it in a star shape on a small plate and placed it between the two of them. It’s not real food, it’s a picture just to see if they can guess what it is. The children looked at the plate. One second. Two. Sofia reached out and arranged a wedge. Emiliano made another

motion.
They didn’t eat it, but they had already touched something. Chayo clicked his tongue. That’s not dinner, he murmured from the kitchen. Mariana ignored the comment. She sat there without saying anything else, just watching as the children, without speaking, arranged wedge by wedge into a kind of flower. When

they finished, Sofia pushed the plate toward Mariana.
It’s a sun, she said. Emiliano nodded. Mariana smiled. It wasn’t food, but it was a first step. A sun made of apples in Milancien te, a house where everything was cold. Dinner ended with full plates, but for the first time someone spoke, even if only a little.

Mariana cleaned everything, washed the dishes, and as she was about to go upstairs, Chayo approached her. Don’t get attached, nothing changes here. Mariana just looked at her. “We’ll see,” she replied without raising her voice. She slowly climbed the stairs, knowing that what was coming would be more difficult than she imagined. The morning began

with the soft sound of birds outside, but nothing could be heard in the mansion, not a voice, not a laugh, not a complaint.
Mariana woke up early and went straight to the kitchen. Chayo was already there grinding coffee and cutting fruit with the same unfriendly expression. Mariana said, “Good morning,” but Chayo only raised an eyebrow. Mariana wasn’t intimidated; she prepared hot milk with a little cinnamon, toasted bread, and

placed everything on a tray.
She walked firmly up to the bedrooms, knocked on the twins’ bedroom door, waited a second, and then entered. They were already awake, sitting in bed, watching TV with the volume down. Mariana placed the tray on a low table. “There are no rules today,” she told them. They both turned to look at her. “We’re

going to do something different.”
” No one answered, but they didn’t ignore her either. Mariana signaled with her hand for them to follow her. They went downstairs in silence, past the enormous dining room, and straight into the kitchen. Chayo saw them and let out a dry laugh. They can’t be here. Mariana looked at her calmly. Today they can.

Chayo looked at her with wide eyes. That’s against the master’s rules. Mariana took a deep breath. “Then I’ll be gone.” And she continued on her way, with the children in tow. The kitchen was spacious, full of light, and with a large island in the center. Mariana took out flour, eggs, milk, and sugar. She put everything

on the table as if it were a game. Emiliano approached without touching anything. Sofía looked at her curiously.
Mariana gave them each a bowl. “We’re going to make pancakes, but you’re the chefs. I’m just helping.” They looked at each other, as if wondering if they could really do it. Sofía was the first to dip her hands into the flour. Emiliano dared to crack an egg, although he did it so hard that

he splashed his face. Mariana didn’t laugh, she just offered him a towel.
That’s what happens when you rush. It’s okay. Little by little, they loosened up, laughed softly, mixed, and tasted. The kitchen began to fill with a rich, different smell. Chayo watched them from the stove, arms crossed. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t leave. When they finished cooking, Mariana put the pancakes

on small plates and took them to the kitchen table, not the dining room.
She sat with them, gave them honey, banana slices, and a little whipped cream. Sofía looked doubtful. Emiliano twirled the fork in his hand. Mariana didn’t look at them directly, just ate hers. Calmly, as if everything were normal. Sofía was the first. She took a tiny piece. Mariana

pretended not to notice. Then Emiliano did too. They didn’t say anything, but chewed.
Mariana almost burst into tears right there, but held it back. She just said, “It was very good.” They didn’t reply, but finished half of it. That’s when Ricardo walked in. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the scene. The three of them sitting in the kitchen, dirty dishes, flour on the table, children eating. Mariana

looked at him without moving.
“Good morning,” he said. Sofía put down her fork. Emiliano stood still. Ricardo approached, serious. “What are you doing here?” Mariana stood up. “We’re having breakfast. The children cooked. It was my idea.” Ricardo looked at the children. They didn’t speak. “Did you cook?” Emiliano asked. He nodded. Sofía lowered her

eyes. Did they eat? This time they didn’t say anything. Only Mariana answered.
Yes, for the first time. Ricardo took a deep breath, looked at the table, and then at Mariana. That wasn’t in the plan. So what if it was in the plan? she asked quietly. Chayo chimed in from his corner. They’ve interfered where they shouldn’t. This isn’t a restaurant. Ricardo looked at her. It’s okay, Chayo. Just give us a

moment. The woman pursed her lips and left.
Mariana didn’t know if they were going to fire her right there. Ricardo stared at the plates. Then at the children. “Did you like it?”

It was as if Lucía were still there, guiding her from a thousand miles away. She didn’t know how long she’d been in the room when she heard footsteps in the hallway. She quickly closed her notebook and took a step back. The door burst open. It was Ricardo. His eyes were hard, his mouth tight. “What

are you doing here?” he said without shouting, but in a voice that hurt. Mariana swallowed. She was cleaning.
The door wasn’t locked; she just wanted to. Ricardo raised his hand. “This room is not to be touched.” Mariana wanted to explain, but he had already entered. She went to the desk, took the notebook, and put it in a drawer. Then she locked it. You don’t enter here. Period.

Mariana said nothing; she just left the room, her face flushed, quickly went down the stairs, and went into the kitchen. Chayo was there chopping onions. “What did you do now?” he asked, in a tone somewhere between mockery and annoyance. Mariana didn’t respond. She just poured herself a glass of water. Chayo looked at her out of the corner of her eye. You came in

to the study, right? Mariana nodded without speaking. Chayo sighed.
No one has gone in there since Lucía died, not even he dares to touch anything, but it seems you’re bringing out everything he had stored away. Mariana didn’t know if that was a reproach or an observation. She put the glass on the table and sat down. Her head was spinning. Lucía wasn’t alive, but she

felt present in every corner, and that presence left no room for anyone else.
Ricardo was still tied to her, that was clear, but it was also clear that the children were starting to loosen up, and he didn’t seem to know what to do with this change. That night, Mariana approached the twins while they were putting together a puzzle. She asked about their mother. Sofía looked down. Emiliano said,

She was singing while she cooked. Mariana smiled.
What was she singing? An old song, the one about the swinging elephants. Mariana began to sing it softly. Sofía looked at her. “Did you know it?” Mariana shook her head. “But I can learn it.” They sang for a while. Then she put them to bed, kissed them on the forehead, and when she left the room, she

stood outside for a moment. The hallway was dark.
In the distance, the closed study door could be seen. Mariana knew she shouldn’t go back in, but she also knew that room wasn’t just full of memories, it was full of secrets. And sooner or later, those secrets would come out because Lucía was no longer there, but her shadow still ruled. That

morning, Mariana came downstairs with the children after breakfast.
They were happy, laughing about something Emiliano had said about a cat he’d dreamed about. Mariana held their hands, one on each side. The kitchen smelled of freshly baked bread, and Chayo was in a better mood than usual. She had even left the radio on softly. Everything seemed to be going well until a familiar

voice, loud and commanding, was heard from the hallway.
“And this happy scene,” said a slim woman with brown hair, very dressed up for it being so early. She was wearing heels, a designer bag, and glasses that she elegantly removed. Mariana didn’t know her, but judging by the way the children stiffened, she knew she was someone important. Ricardo appeared

right behind her.
Adriana, you’re early,” he said with a smile that didn’t seem entirely honest. Adriana, Lucía’s aunt and sister, had heard of her, but hadn’t seen her in person. Sofía let go of Mariana’s hand and hid a little behind her father. Emiliano stood still. Mariana felt the air

have cooled without explanation. Adriana walked with firm steps toward the children. She kissed them both on the forehead, but they didn’t react.
Then she looked Mariana up and down. “And you’re the new nanny.” Mariana nodded. “Nice to meet you, I’m Mariana.” Adriana didn’t return the greeting; she just smiled halfheartedly. Ricardo, can we talk privately? He hesitated for a second. “Sure. Come with me to the office.”

Before leaving, Ricardo gestured to Mariana as if to say, “Calm down.” But she sensed he wasn’t. As soon as the office door closed, Chayo approached. “The storm came,” he said softly. Mariana didn’t understand. “Why are you saying that?” Chayo grimaced. Adriana wants to manage this house.

She’s always wanted to, and she’s not going to like what you’re doing with the children.
Mariana swallowed. She was just doing her job, nothing more. But Chayo was right. Adriana didn’t seem comfortable with her there. That same day, Adriana left the office again with Ricardo. She stayed in the house all day, pacing as if she owned it. Mariana saw her go into the

playroom, look through storybooks, or read the children’s clothes.
At lunchtime, she sat at the head of the table. Ricardo on one side, the children in front, Mariana on the other side. “They told me you cook now,” Adriana said, looking at her napkin. “Yes,” Mariana replied calmly. “Do you like it?” Adriana giggled. “Yes, of course. The

Rich kids always like to play poor for a while.” Ricardo looked at her out of the corner of his eye, annoyed…..to be continued