When My Mother-in-Law Offered to Babysit Every Wednesday, I Thought It Was Sweet — Until I Discovered the Truth
I wish I could tell you this was just in my head. That it was simply stress or exhaustion making me suspicious. But I wasn’t imagining it. And I would give anything to have been wrong.
My name is Martha. My husband, Jason, and I both work full-time, so our four-year-old daughter, Beverly, spends most weekdays at daycare. It’s not ideal, but she was happy, and we were managing.
One morning, as I packed her lunch, I said to Jason, “I don’t want Bev to feel like we’re pushing her away.”
“She’s doing great, love,” he reassured me.
A Kind Offer… Or So I Thought
About a month ago, Cheryl—my mother-in-law—offered to watch Beverly every Wednesday.
“Give her a break from daycare and spend some time with Grandma,” she suggested over dinner.
She even offered to watch her at our place to keep Beverly comfortable.
It felt like a kind gesture. Cheryl and I were never that close, but this seemed sincere. Plus, it would save us some daycare money. I agreed.
At first, everything appeared perfectly normal.
Then Beverly Started Acting Different
One evening at dinner, Beverly said, “I only want to eat with Daddy, Grandma, and her friend today,” while pushing away the food I made.
“Who’s Grandma’s friend, sweetheart?” I asked.
She just smiled and sipped her juice.
Soon, she started mentioning this “friend” more and more.
One night, as I tucked her in, she whispered, “Mommy, why don’t you like our friend?”
“Who told you that?” I asked.
In a strangely grown-up tone, she replied, “Our friend is part of the family. You just don’t see it yet.”
A cold chill went through me.
Cheryl’s Smooth Answer
That weekend, I asked Cheryl directly.
“Has Bev made any new friends? She keeps mentioning someone.”
Without looking up from her coffee, Cheryl said, “Oh, you know how kids are. Probably just an imaginary friend.”
Something about her tone felt too smooth—too rehearsed. My gut told me she was lying.
I Decided to Watch
That night, I reinstalled an old hidden camera in our living room—one we had used years ago when we had a night nanny.
The next Wednesday, I left for work like usual and checked the footage during my lunch break.
At first, everything looked normal. Beverly played on the floor while Cheryl read on the couch. Then Cheryl glanced at her watch.
“Bev, sweetheart, are you ready? Our friend will be here any minute.”
“Yes, Gran! I love her! Do you think she’ll play with my hair again?”
Her.
Then Cheryl said, “You remember, right? About what we don’t tell Mommy?”
“Yes. Not a word to Mom,” Beverly replied sweetly.
My stomach dropped.
The doorbell rang. Cheryl got up and walked to the door.
And Then… I Saw Her
When the door opened, a tall woman in a long black coat stepped inside. She had a pale face, dark hair pulled tightly back, and an unsettlingly wide smile. Beverly ran to her immediately, hugging her legs like they were old friends.
Cheryl greeted her warmly: “Right on time. We’ve been waiting for you.”
The woman knelt down and began gently brushing Beverly’s hair with her fingers. “Such a beautiful little girl,” she said in a soft, almost hypnotic voice.
My chest tightened. Who was she?
As I watched, the woman whispered something into Beverly’s ear. Bev giggled and nodded, then said, “I promise, I won’t tell Mommy.”
The woman glanced toward the camera—straight into it—like she knew I was watching. And then… she smiled.
The Aftermath
I shut the video and called Jason immediately. We both came home early that day, but by then, the woman was gone. Cheryl acted like nothing had happened.
When I confronted her, she said, “You’re overreacting. She’s just an old family friend.” But when I demanded a name and contact information, Cheryl refused.
We haven’t let Cheryl babysit since. I still don’t know who that woman was—or what she wanted with my daughter. But sometimes, late at night, Beverly still talks in her sleep… and says she misses “our friend.”
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction created for entertainment purposes. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Images accompanying this article are generated for illustrative purposes only.
