Every Babysitter We Hired Quit Without Explanation – So My Husband Wore a Wig and Applied for the Job
Ben stepped into the hallway.
“You must be Megan.”
Diane smiled.
“I’m Sophie’s grandmother.”
She did not recognize him.
The wig, loose cardigan, and oversized glasses changed more than his appearance. Ben had spent a week practicing a softer voice and careful posture.
Diane glanced toward the living room camera.
“Could we speak somewhere private?”
Ben followed her into the guest bedroom.
I watched through a narrow opening in the closet door.
Diane removed a thick folder from her handbag.
“I imagine the agency told you this was a simple job.”
“They did.”
“They don’t know the whole situation.”
She opened the folder.
“My daughter-in-law loves Sophie very much.”
Ben nodded.
“But love isn’t always enough.”
Diane showed him my therapy records.
“Emma has a serious history.”
“Is she dangerous?”
Diane hesitated just long enough to seem reluctant.
“She can be.”
“Has she ever hurt Sophie?”
“Not in a way anyone could prove.”
Diane slid the cropped staircase photograph across the bed.
Ben studied it.
“What am I looking at?”
“Emma losing control.”
“Was anyone else there?”
“I took the photograph.”
“You watched her hurt Sophie and didn’t intervene?”
Diane stiffened.
“It happened quickly.”
Ben picked up another page.
“This says Emma completed treatment and was discharged five years ago.”
