“Not safe!” I yelled, my heart racing. I ushered my kids inside, locking the door behind us. My mind was spinning, trying to make sense of what was happening. Who could have sent that text? Why were my children outside with all their things?
I peeked out the window and saw the car door open. A figure stepped out—my ex-husband, Steve. We had been divorced for years, and while he had visitation rights, this was not his weekend. There was no reason for him to be here, especially under such strange circumstances.I opened the door slightly, just enough to confront him. “Steve, what are you doing here? Why did you send that message to the kids?”
His face was cold and expressionless, which sent a chill down my spine. “I didn’t send that message. You did,” he replied flatly.”What are you talking about? I never texted them!” I shot back, feeling the anger bubbling up inside me.
Steve’s eyes darkened. “You don’t get it, do you? I got a message from you, too. It said that you were taking the kids and leaving town for good. That’s why I came. I was trying to stop you.”My head was spinning. None of this made any sense. I hadn’t sent any messages, and Steve didn’t seem like the kind of person to pull a stunt like this. But someone clearly wanted both of us to believe the other was up to something.
Just then, my son handed me his phone. I scanned the message, and my blood ran cold. It was from my number, but I hadn’t sent it. Someone had spoofed my phone, made it look like I was the one texting the kids to pack up and leave.My heart raced. Who would do this? And why?
Steve’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s clear that someone’s playing us. We need to figure this out before things get worse.”For once, I agreed with him. We had to put aside our differences to protect our kids from whoever was trying to manipulate us. “Fine,” I said, swallowing my pride. “But first, let’s make sure the kids are safe.”
We both went inside, and I checked every door and window to make sure they were locked. My kids were scared, and I did my best to reassure them, even though I was terrified myself.Steve and I sat at the kitchen table, trying to piece things together. Who could have known both of our numbers and used them to create such chaos? My mind wandered to a few people—old friends, family members, even strangers we might’ve crossed paths with. But none of them seemed like the type to pull off something this elaborate.
And then, it hit me.There had been a strange man lingering around the kids’ school for the past week. I had noticed him a few times, but I hadn’t thought much of it. Just someone waiting to pick up their child, I had assumed. But now, a sinking feeling crept into my gut.
I told Steve about the man, and his face hardened. “We need to go to the police,” he said.I nodded in agreement. We couldn’t take any chances. Someone had been watching us, manipulating us, and it wasn’t safe to stay quiet any longer.
As we drove to the police station, my kids huddled in the backseat, still confused and scared. I held their hands tightly, reassuring them that we would get to the bottom of this. But deep down, I knew that life would never be the same. Someone had invaded our lives, and they were out there, waiting for their next move.We filed a report, gave the police all the details, and left feeling slightly more secure, though the fear still gnawed at me.
In the days that followed, we tightened our security, made sure the kids were never left alone, and waited for any new developments. The police assured us they were investigating, but weeks passed, and nothing concrete emerged.But one thing was clear: this wasn’t a random act. Someone wanted to tear my family apart, and I would stop at nothing to protect my children.