Every Sunday at 5 p.m., Josh would return from his mother’s house. As he walked through the door, he would kick off his shoes and retreat to his room, a noticeable shift from the cheerful, curious ten-year-old I had grown close to. Instead of the energetic child I knew, there was a more withdrawn and irritable boy. I noticed it every time, but as his stepmother, I wasn’t sure how far I could go in offering help. Josh had always been kind and affectionate with me, yet I was unsure of how to navigate the situation.
One evening, while Patrick and I chopped vegetables for dinner, I couldn’t shake the concern. “Do you think he’s okay?” I asked.“He’s probably fine,” Patrick replied, trying to reassure me. “Linda can be intense. Maybe she lectured him again.”
“But I lecture him too,” I pointed out. “He jokes about it. This is different.”
“If you’re that worried, just talk to him,” Patrick said. “I’ll check in with him later too.”Since Josh had moved in with us, there had been a clear change. At first, he was full of life, always excited to share stories and spend time with me in the kitchen. But over time, we had to coax him out of his shell after every visit to Linda. We tried everything—cooking his favorite meals, playing games, and planning special movie nights—but nothing seemed to lift his spirits.After dinner, Patrick attempted to have a conversation with Josh. I stayed in the kitchen, pretending to clean while listening. “It’s just… draining, being there,” Josh confessed. “But I know it’s important to spend time with Mom.”
Patrick offered to switch weekends if that would help, but Josh simply went quiet and excused himself to bed. On his way, he surprised me with a tight hug. “Good night, Liv,” he said softly. His words carried a weight that stayed with me.The truth came out the following weekend. Patrick had gone shopping, and I was sitting alone on the couch, waiting for Josh. Our new security system, which we had installed after a string of neighborhood thefts, was synced with the TV. The moment there was movement on the porch, the feed replaced whatever show we were watching. I was sipping tea when the screen switched to a live view of the front door—Josh and Linda were standing there.“Here are your cookies,” Linda said, handing him a container. “And don’t forget what you have to do.”
Josh hesitated. “Mom, I don’t want to.”
“You have to tell them the truth,” Linda replied. “I need one of Olivia’s necklaces or rings next time. I can pawn it to clear some of my debt.”
I froze.
Josh pleaded with her to stop. “Liv’s going to notice her things are missing. The sanitary pads, the lotion… Mom, I can’t keep doing this.”
I felt sick. Josh had been caught in a terrible situation, torn between loyalty to his mother and the burden of deceit. But now, everything made sense. I had noticed my personal items disappearing, and now I understood why.Linda’s voice was sharp. “So what? They’ve got money. You need to do this to help me.”
I could barely hold back my emotions as I made my way to the front door and opened it.
“Linda,” I said firmly.
Josh looked surprised but reached out for a hug.
“I heard everything,” I told Linda. Her eyes shifted nervously, and Josh clung to me, his breathing shaky.
“Josh, go to your room for a bit, sweetheart,” I said gently. Once Josh had gone, I turned to Linda. “What’s going on?”Under the pressure of my questions, Linda finally confessed. She was struggling with debt and had resorted to desperate measures. She didn’t even try to deny it.
“I’ll help you,” I told her. “I’ll give you money to get back on your feet. But you cannot involve Josh again. He stays here with us until you can be a mother without manipulating him. Understand?”
“He’s my son,” she muttered, clearly defensive.
“No,” I said, my voice steady. “He’s a child, and you’re using him. If you don’t stop, I will press charges.”
Linda’s face fell as the weight of my words sank in. She nodded and muttered a thank you before walking away.