I ran through the back woods of Manderly, the branches catching my black lace cuffs and stumbling over protruding roots, my mind puzzling the day's events, How could this have happened? It went so quickly, I remember receiving the news from Jack that Mr. DeWinter would not be convicted of Rebecca's murder, I realized then I could no longer stay at Manderly, Mr. De Winter would never allow it. Moreover, I could not knowingly serve the man who murdered my beloved Rebecca nor the little chit who thinks she can replace her. I instructed Jack to meet me behind Manderly in one hour in that garish car of his; I had to leave under my own terms in order to maintain some dignity.
I then speed back to my chambers to prepare my departure, a few changes of clothes and the salary I accumulated over my many years of faithful service to that despicable man, than off to the west wing. I just had to keep something of Rebecca's, no doubt it would all be destroyed at Mr. DeWinter's return if I did not. I first thought of the wardrobe closet; Rebecca always loved her clothes, but no, that was impractical, I could not carry much more than I already had in my suitcase; I must then have left my cigarette unbalanced in the ash tray on the broach cabinet. I went into the bedroom to search and by the time I decided on Rebecca's brushes… I smelled smoke! I turned, and the entire wardrobe closet was aflame. My mind went blank; hugging the brushes to my chest, I grabbed my suitcase and ran.
I had to wait hardly a minute before Favell drove by in his green car. After I told him what had happened at Manderly, we realized we had to leave town, there was no evidence to assume the fire was not an accident and the law had already proven it was in Mr. DeWinter's pocket. We drove in silence straight through to the next morning. I finally asked him to stop right outside Eltham, as I got out of the car, Jack turned to me muttering "We'll get him next time Danny, that murdering scum will not get away with this. Keep in touch" but as I closed the door and watched as he drove away, I knew that we would never meet again, and that we would never enact our revenge on Maximillion De Winter.
I than turned my sights on the goals that lay ahead. I first secured a residence, a simple one-bedroom apartment with distasteful lime-green walls. Secondly, I prepared my self for retirement. It was only later I realized just how futile my attempted retirement was, I was not meant to settle so quickly and I grew restless, any way my funds would deplete sooner or later. In the end I decided to acquire a job. I had only two joys in life, managing the housekeeping at Manderly and raising my dear Rebecca. Managing another house was out of the question, management always began at the lowest job and worked their way up, and I was no longer spry enough for the work of a maid. I decided then and there to apply at the nanny agency two streets away. My credentials were excellent, who would not want their child raised by the nanny of the fabled Rebecca DeWinter.
None of the jobs took, none of the parents pictured me as a right match for their child, not that I wanted the job of caring for those timid, cringing brats. One day the woman who owned the agency, Mrs. Spaas, walked into my meeting room, her normal, meticulous appearance seemed, somehow, disheveled. When I inquired as to whom the next child might be Mrs. Spaas gave a start and gave me a look that told me she had been dreading this question, she answered nervously, "Her name is Annabeth Scarlet. She is, well, lively. She has never kept a nanny for more than five months."
Just as she spoke these words, the door opened and in walked a gentleman who could only be Mr. Scarlet, trailing behind him, a young girl about eight years old in a blue dress, her face turned toward my employer in a defiant scowl, her curly brown-gold hair bouncing around her face as she walked. When Mrs. Spaas introduced me, the girls face turned in my direction and her mouth turned up into a smirk, but I was no longer taking in her appearance, my attention was caught by her eyes. Her vibrant green eyes held something special, a spark that reminded me so much of Rebecca. When Annabeth spoke, her voice rang with confidence, "Danvers huh, well Danny, here are the rules, I do what I want, when I want and nobody is ever going to control me!"