Running a business while raising a child is no easy feat. My husband and I thought hiring a nanny would be the solution to keep our family together. At first, she seemed like a lifesaver. But the night my son came to me in tears, begging me to call the police on her… I knew something was terribly wrong.
The aroma of freshly ground coffee clung to my clothes as I locked up the coffee shop. Six months into owning Beanz Bistro, and I still couldn’t believe it was ours. The small corner café downtown had been a dream come true—a dream that demanded 14-hour days and constant attention.
A delighted businesswoman | Source: Midjourney
“You heading home?” Diane, my assistant manager, called from behind the counter.
“Finally,” I said, checking my watch. “Jay’s probably wondering where I am.”
“How’s the new nanny working out?”
I smiled, feeling a wave of relief. “Sabrina’s been a godsend. I don’t know what we’d do without her.”
The drive home gave me 15 precious minutes to transition from business owner to mom. At 32, the juggling act never seemed to get easier. When Wilfred suggested hiring help after I opened the café, I’d initially resisted. No one could care for Jay the way I could.
A woman in her car | Source: Midjourney
But Wilfred had been right… we needed help.
“She’s perfect for us,” he said after interviewing Sabrina. “Smart, studying business, and she adores kids. Plus, she already works part-time at my office, so I know she’s responsible.”
When I pulled into our driveway, the modest two-story house we’d stretched our budget to afford looked quiet and peaceful in the fading light. Inside, Jay’s backpack hung neatly on its hook, and the kitchen was spotless—Sabrina’s doing, no doubt.
“I’m home!” I called out.
A hopeful woman standing in her kitchen | Source: Midjourney
My eight-year-old came running down the hallway in his favorite dinosaur T-shirt, stained with what looked like chocolate. “Mom!” he yelled, launching himself into my arms.
“Hey, buddy. Where’s Sabrina?”
“She left when Dad got home early.” He grabbed my hand. “Can we have mac and cheese tonight? Please?”
“Sure thing. Is Dad in his office?”
Jay nodded vigorously, already pulling me toward the kitchen.
A happy little boy looking up at someone | Source: Midjourney
Later, when Jay was tucked in and Wilfred was finishing up some work, I sank into our sofa and closed my eyes. This business, home, and our family… it was everything I’d ever wanted. And the exhaustion felt worth it.
“You look beat,” Wilfred said, settling beside me. His hand found mine, warm and familiar.
“In the best way possible. How was your day?”
“Good. Had that quarterly review. Oh, and I stopped by to check on Sabrina with Jay. She’s doing great with him.”
I nodded, leaning my head against his shoulder. “We got lucky finding her.”
“We did. We really did.”
A relieved man smiling | Source: Midjourney
Three weeks later, I was elbow-deep in inventory sheets when my phone rang.
“This is Principal Winters. Jay isn’t feeling well. Could someone pick him up?”
Twenty minutes later, I found Jay curled up on a chair in the school nurse’s office, looking miserable but not visibly ill.
“Hey, sweetie,” I said, pressing my hand to his forehead. No fever. “What’s wrong?”
He shrugged, not meeting my eyes. “I want to go home.”
In the car, Jay stared out the window, unusually quiet.
A sad boy sitting in the car | Source: Midjourney
“Is everything okay at school? Is someone bothering you, sweetie?”
“No.”
“You can tell me anything, you know that, right?”
He nodded but remained silent.
That evening, after Wilfred got home and Sabrina left, Jay seemed to bounce back. But over dinner, I noticed him pushing food around his plate, watching his father with an odd intensity.
“Dad, can I stay home with Mom tomorrow instead of Sabrina?”
A depressed boy seated at the dining table | Source: Midjourney
Wilfred looked up, surprised. “Mom has to work, buddy. You know that.”
“But I don’t want to be with Sabrina anymore.”
“Did something happen?” I asked, alarm bells ringing.
“No,” Jay mumbled, but his eyes darted to Wilfred and back to his plate.
“Sabrina’s great with you,” Wilfred said, a bit too forcefully. “And she’s helping us out a lot. You need to be nice to her.”
Jay’s shoulders slumped. “Okay.”
A suspicious man staring at someone | Source: Midjourney
Later, I tried again to get Jay to open up, but he just hugged me tight and said he was tired.
As I closed his bedroom door, Wilfred appeared in the hallway. “Kids,” he sighed. “Probably just wants more attention.”
“Maybe,” I said, but something didn’t feel right.
“Hey,” Wilfred said, catching my hand. “You’re doing amazing with the café. Jay will adjust. And Sabrina is wonderful. Really.”
I nodded, trying to ignore the unease growing in my chest. “You’ve been getting home early a lot lately.”
A man looking at someone | Source: Midjourney
“Just making sure everything’s running smoothly with Sabrina and Jay,” he said, kissing my forehead. “Nothing wrong with that, right?”
“Of course not,” I replied, but the unease persisted.
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A week later, I was going through receipts in our home office when Jay burst through the door, tears streaming down his face.
“Mom!” he cried, throwing himself at me. “You need to call the police about my nanny!”
My heart stopped. “What? Why? Did she hurt you?”
“No,” he sobbed. “She’s a thief!”
Relief flooded through me, followed quickly by confusion. “A thief? What did she steal?”
A startled woman | Source: Midjourney
Jay’s face crumpled, his little hands balling into fists. “She stole Dad from us!”
Everything inside me went still. “What do you mean, sweetie?”
“Yesterday,” he hiccupped through tears, “when you were at the café, I came downstairs to get a snack. Dad was home early again, and I saw him…” He trailed off.
“Saw him what?”
“He was kissing Sabrina. Like in the movies.” Jay’s eyes searched mine, desperate for me to fix this impossible thing. “That’s stealing, right? Because Dad belongs to us.”
A man and a woman kissing each other | Source: Unsplash
My throat closed up. I pulled Jay close, hiding my face in his hair so he wouldn’t see my shock. “Thank you for telling me,” I managed to say. “You did the right thing.”
“Are you going to call the police now?” he asked, his voice muffled against my shirt.
“No, sweetie. This isn’t something for the police, but I will handle it… and I need you to keep it between us, okay? Don’t tell Dad.”
“Okay.”
A distressed boy |