Diane looked towards the living room camera.
“Could we talk somewhere quieter?”
Ben followed her to the guest bedroom.
I watched them through a small crack in the closet door.
Diane took a thick folder out of her bag.
“I imagine the agency told you this was an easy job.”
“Yes, they told me.”
“They don’t know the whole situation.”
He opened the folder.
“My daughter-in-law loves Sophie very much.”
Ben nodded.
“But love isn’t always enough.”
Diane showed him my therapy reports.
“Emma has a pretty serious medical history.”
“Is it dangerous?”
Diane hesitated just long enough to make it seem like she didn’t want to say it.
“It could be.”
“Has he ever hurt Sophie?”
“Not in a way that can be proven.”
Diane slid the cropped photo of the staircase across the bed.
Ben looked at her intently.
“What am I looking at?”
“Emma losing control.”
“Was there anyone else there?”
“I took the photo.”
“Did you see her hurt Sophie and you did nothing?”
Diane tensed up.
“It happened very quickly.”
Ben picked up another page.
“It says here that Emma finished treatment and was discharged five years ago.”
“People relapse.”
“And has she done it?”
“Not officially.”
Ben looked at him.
“So why are you telling me it’s dangerous?”
Diane lowered her voice.
“Because all the nannies who came before you were careless. They liked Emma. They believed her.”
“What happened to them?”
“They resigned.”
“Did you make them resign?”
“I encouraged them to protect themselves.”
“And did the agency pay them?”
For the first time, Diane seemed restless.
“What do you know about that?”
Ben took off his glasses.
Then she took off her wig.
His mother stared at him.
All the color drained from his face.
“Ben?”
“Thank goodness my wife recovered years ago.”
Diane got up so fast that the folder fell off the bed.
“What is this?”.
“The truth”.
“You have deceived me.”
“You lied to seven women.”
“I protected my granddaughter.”
“From Emma?”
“About what might happen.”
I came out of the closet.
Diane turned towards me.
The world came crashing down on him.
“Emma?”
“You told some strangers that I was dangerous.”
“I was afraid.”
“You showed them my private medical records.”
“I had to make them understand.”
“Understand what?”
She looked at Ben as if he could help her.
But he didn’t.
Diane sat on the edge of the bed.
“When Sophie was born, you were ill.”
“I know”.
“You said horrible things.”
“I was sick.”
“You said you wanted to disappear.”
“I sought help.”
“But what if it happens again?”
His voice broke.
“What if everyone relaxes and something happens?”
Ben shook his head.
“Well, we will react to what is happening, not to what happened five years ago.”
Diane started to cry.
“I couldn’t lose Sophie.”
The truth finally came to light.
This was never just about protecting Sophie.
Diane had become Sophie’s primary caregiver during the worst months of my illness. She fed her, rocked her, and slept beside her crib while I was in treatment.
When I recovered, Diane had to take a step back.
But in reality, he never really did.
“You thought every nanny was replacing you,” I told her.
“No”.
“So why were you chasing them away?”
“I needed someone responsible.”
“You needed someone who would be loyal to you.”
He did not deny it.
Ben picked up the folder.
“You had been keeping information about my wife for five years.”
“I kept evidence.”
“From his recovery?”
Diane looked at him.
“Of risk.”
I felt something inside me calm down.
For years, she had carried the shame of the mother she had been during those months. Diane had turned that shame into a weapon and convinced others that recovery was an illusion.
“You will not enter this house again without permission,” I told him.
His eyes opened wide.
“Emma, please.”
“You’re going to give me back all the copies of my medical records, all the photos, and all the recordings.”
