When Martha’s mother-in-law offers to babysit her daughter every Wednesday, she sees it as a kind gesture—until Bev starts behaving strangely. Desperate for answers, Martha installs a hidden camera, only to uncover a devastating truth. Lies, manipulation, and betrayal go deeper than she ever imagined.

I wish I could say I was overreacting. That my paranoia had gotten the best of me, that my suspicions were just the result of exhaustion. But I wasn’t imagining things.

An upset woman | Source: Midjourney

And I would give anything—anything—to have been wrong.

My name is Martha, and I have a four-year-old daughter, Beverly. My husband, Jason, and I both work full-time, so Bev spends most weekdays at daycare.

I already felt guilty enough about it, but it was our only option. And it worked. She was happy, we were happy, and life moved forward.

Packed lunch boxes | Source: Midjourney

“Bev is going to be fine, love,” Jason reassured me one morning as we packed her lunch.

“I know, and she’s thriving. She’s making friends and enjoying herself. But… I don’t want her to feel like we’re pushing her away,” I admitted.

Then, a month ago, my mother-in-law, Cheryl, made an unexpected offer.

A plate of food on a table | Source: Midjourney

“Why don’t I take Beverly on Wednesdays?” she suggested over dinner, slicing into her chicken. “It’ll give her a break from daycare and let us spend some quality grandma-granddaughter time.”

I hesitated.

“We can stay here so she feels comfortable,” Cheryl continued. “Or I can take her to the park, out for ice cream… but most of the time, we’ll be home. Sound good?”

A woman sitting at a table | Source: Midjourney

Cheryl and I had never been particularly close. There was always an air of quiet disapproval in the way she spoke to me, an unspoken tension.

But this seemed harmless—just a grandmother wanting to spend time with her granddaughter. Plus, it would save us some daycare costs.

And, truthfully, I liked the idea of Bev spending time with family.

So, I agreed.

A child sitting on a staircase | Source: Midjourney

At first, everything seemed fine.

But soon, Beverly began to change.

It started with small things.

“I only want to eat with Daddy, Grandma, and her friend today,” she said one evening, pushing away the dinner I had made.

A little girl holding a juice box | Source: Midjourney

She gave me a secretive little smile as she sipped her juice.

“Who’s Grandma’s friend, sweetheart?” I asked, frowning.

I assumed it was a new daycare friend—until she kept mentioning it. Until she started pulling away from me.

Then, one night, as I tucked her into bed, she whispered something that sent chills down my spine.

A little girl tucked into her bed | Source: Midjourney

“Mommy, why don’t you like our friend?”

A knot of unease tightened in my stomach.

“Who told you that?”

Bev hesitated, biting her lower lip. Then, in a voice too rehearsed for a four-year-old, she said:

“Our friend is part of the family, Mommy. You just don’t see it yet.”

A stack of pancakes and syrup | Source: Midjourney

Something was happening—something I couldn’t see. Yet.

I decided to ask Cheryl about it during breakfast that Saturday. Jason and Bev were in the kitchen making pancakes when I casually brought it up.

“Has Beverly made any new little friends? At daycare or the park?”

Cheryl barely glanced up from her coffee.

A woman holding a cup of coffee | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, you know how kids are. They always make up imaginary friends,” she said smoothly.

Too smoothly.

I smiled, but my gut told me she was lying.

Call it intuition, call it a mother’s instinct—something was off.

That night, I did something I never thought I’d do.

I installed a hidden camera in the living room.

A camera on a table | Source: Midjourney

I had one from when Bev was a baby and we had a night nanny. Jason worked night shifts then, and he wanted to keep an eye on things while I slept.

Now, I was using it again. And I felt sick about it. But I had to know.

The next Wednesday, I went to work as usual, leaving snacks in the fridge for Cheryl and Bev. I tried to focus but barely made it through one meeting.

A woman holding her phone | Source: Midjourney

By lunchtime, my hands were trembling as I checked the footage on my phone.

At first, everything looked normal. Bev played with her dolls while Cheryl lounged on the couch with a cup of tea.

Then Cheryl checked her watch.

A little girl playing with her toys | Source: Midjourney

“Bev, sweetheart, are you ready? Our friend will be here any minute now.”

My stomach dropped.

“Yes, Gran! I love her! Do you think she’ll play with my hair again?”

Her.

A smiling older woman | Source: Midjourney

Cheryl beamed.

“If you ask her, I’m sure she will, little love. And you remember, right? About what we don’t tell Mommy?”

My daughter’s voice was impossibly sweet.

“Yes. Not a word to Mom.”

I nearly dropped my phone.

Then, I heard it—the doorbell.

Cheryl stood, smoothing her clothes as she walked to the door.

My hands clenched. I didn’t know what I was about to see. But I felt sick.

And then, I saw her.

Jason’s ex-wife, Alexa, stepped inside my home.

The woman he had left years ago. The woman I had been told moved to another state, needing a fresh start.

And Beverly—my daughter—ran straight into her arms.

I don’t remember grabbing my keys. I don’t remember getting into my car.

A smiling woman standing in a doorway | Source: Midjourney

One moment, I was watching my world collapse on a tiny screen. The next, I was speeding home.

I threw the door open so hard it banged against the wall.

There they were. Cheryl. Alexa. My daughter. Sitting together on the couch.

Alexa turned to me, startled.

“Oh. Hi, Martha,” she said, as if she belonged here.

“What the hell is she doing here?” My voice was sharper than I intended.

A woman driving | Source: Midjourney

Beverly looked up, confused.

“Mommy, why are you ruining the union?”

Union? Reunion?

Cheryl let out an exasperated sigh.

“You always were slow on the uptake, Martha.”

The conversation that followed shattered me.

“What union? What is my child talking about?”

Alexa shifted uncomfortably.

Cheryl smirked.

“It’s time you faced reality. You were never supposed to be here. Jason was meant to be with Alexa, not you.”

My body went ice-cold.

A woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

“My goodness, you were a mistake. The only good thing to come from you is Bev. And when Jason realizes that, Beverly should already know where her real family is. Alexa won’t just leave her at some daycare—she’ll work from home, raise her properly.”

Alexa wouldn’t meet my eyes.

I turned to her.

“And you? You went along with this?” My voice shook with rage.

A wide-eyed little girl | Source: Midjourney

She swallowed.

“Cheryl convinced me that Beverly should know me. That maybe… if Jason and I…”

I took a step closer.

“If you and Jason what? Got back together?” I spat.

She didn’t answer.

I turned back to Cheryl.

“You will never see Beverly again.”

Cheryl smiled.

An older woman sitting on a couch | Source: Midjourney

“My son will never allow that.”

I smiled back, cold and hard.

“Oh, we’ll see.”

I scooped Bev into my arms. She didn’t resist. But she was confused. And that broke me more than anything else.

As I sat in the car, holding her close, I made a promise.

No one—absolutely no one—was taking my daughter from me.

Not Cheryl. Not Alexa.

And if Jason wasn’t on my side?

A shocked woman | Source: Midjourney

Then not even him.

That night, I told Jason everything. Showed him the footage.

He went pale.

“She’s never seeing Beverly again. Never.”

Cheryl tried to call. I blocked her.

A woman holding a throw pillow | Source: Midjourney

Some people don’t deserve second chances.

And some people don’t deserve to be called family.

A woman looking out of a window | Source: Midjourney