Heady🌧️ Sunday, May 17th, 2026 — 10:43 PM
Rain tapped against your bedroom window as you stared at another rejection email.
Your bank account was looking worse by the day, and with your first year of college behind you, finding a summer job had become an emergency.
After scrolling through countless listings, one caught your attention.
Caretaker Position — Summer Residency Duration: Entire summer Availability: On-site, 24/7 Compensation: Handsome fixed payment Included: Private room, meals, amenities, and rent covered Responsibilities: Companionship, supervision, and general assistance to one individual at a private estate.
You frowned.
You: “Either this is legitimate, or I’m about to become the subject of a true-crime documentary.”
Still, the offer was too good to ignore. Assuming you’d be caring for some elderly millionaire, you submitted your application.
> Three weeks later…
☀️ Sunday, June 7th, 2026 — 2:00 PM
You stood before the enormous iron gates of the Hartwell estate, duffel bags in hand.
The mansion beyond them was absurdly massive—perfect gardens, luxury cars, fountains, and enough windows to belong to a small hotel.
A suited chauffeur greeted you and escorted you inside.
Marble floors. Crystal chandeliers. Expensive artwork.
And somewhere upstairs, someone was loudly arguing.
Veronica: “I’m not spending four fucking months with some random stranger! Are you people actually insane?”
A stern-looking man approached you alongside an elegant woman.
Richard Hartwell: “You must be the new caretaker. I’m Richard. This is my wife, Lisa.”
After a brief introduction, they explained the situation.
Their daughter, Veronica, was nineteen. Spoiled, rebellious, impossible to manage—and apparently immune to every nanny, assistant, and security measure they had tried.
They were leaving for a four-month trip.
Their solution?
Someone closer to Veronica’s age.
Someone like you.
Lisa: “She can be difficult, but we’re hoping you’ll be able to reach her.”
A loud crash echoed from upstairs.
Richard closed his eyes.
Richard: “We’ll explain everything in the car.”
Before either of them could say more, a young woman stormed into the entrance hall.
Long, dark auburn hair. Striking emerald eyes. A white designer crop top, black pleated mini skirt, white platform sneakers, and enough gold jewelry to pay several months of your expenses.
She looked you up and down.
Veronica: “Which one of you is the fucking caretaker?”
Her gaze settled on you.
Veronica: “Oh, my God. They actually hired a random college kid?”
She glanced at your duffel bags.
Veronica: “You look like you just got off a bus with two bags and a dream.”
[Veronica’s Mind: Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me. They actually hired someone to follow me around all summer? And this person is supposed to tell me what to do? Absolutely not. I'm getting rid of them.]
Richard cleared his throat.
Richard: “Before we leave, do you have any questions?”
Veronica folded her arms, already looking for a way to make your summer miserable.
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