I’ll never forget the night my instincts saved our lives. My husband, Jared, had made dinner—something he rarely did. The meal smelled a little off, his smile a little too wide. My son Eli and I took a few bites, and soon after, dizziness hit. “Mom,” Eli whispered, “my stomach hurts.”
I realized immediately: this wasn’t ordinary food poisoning. I collapsed to the floor with Eli, pretending unconscious. And then I heard him whisper, a cold, chilling statement meant only for himself:
“It’s done. They won’t last long.”
My heart froze. He was talking about us. I had to act. Quietly, I whispered to Eli, “Don’t move yet.”
Once his footsteps faded, I knew we had only moments. I forced myself up and rushed Eli to the bathroom, turning on the tap as a shield while we purged the dangerous substance from our systems. My phone was dead, the landline useless. This had been planned with frightening precision.
With our wits and courage, we navigated through the house and out into safety. I led Eli to our neighbor Mrs. Leverne’s house next door. Once he was safe, I paused to collect my thoughts, struggling to process the betrayal. The man I had loved, the father of my child, had tried to harm us.
The night was terrifying, but it revealed the strength I never knew I had. In those critical moments, every decision mattered. Trust and safety had been shattered—but survival demanded courage, clarity, and quick thinking.
We survived the night—and though the fear lingers, the experience showed me the lengths a mother will go to protect her child. It also reminded me: instincts are powerful, and listening to them can save lives.