Harriet dialed the solicitor’s number with trembling fingers, the phone buzzing like a restless bee. When Susan answered on the second ring, her voice was steady, a calm lighthouse in a storm.
«Harriet, whats happened?» Susan asked, her tone firm and reassuring.
«I cant believe Anthony did this,» Harriet whispered, fighting back tears. «He slipped a hidden recorder into Ethans wooden rocker. He wants to gather evidence against me.»
Susan let out a soft sigh, the sound of papers shuffling in the background. «Take a deep breath, Harriet. Anything recorded like that is inadmissible in court. He wont be able to use it.»
«Are you sure?» Harriets voice cracked.
«Absolutely,» Susan replied with confidence. «Stay composed. If this comes to light, itll backfire on him. How did you discover it?»
Harriet recounted the whole thinglatenight noises, the faint click that led her to the rocker, the cold metal recorder tucked inside.
When she finished, Susan said, «Alright. Heres what you do. Turn it to your advantage. Make sure theres nothing useful on the tape. Flip the situation on its head.»
Those words ignited a fire in Harriets chest. She wasnt about to let Anthony walk away clean.
«Thank you, Susan. Ill handle it.»
Determined, she lifted the recorder and spoke straight into it, «You hear that, Anthony? Whatever youre planning, it wont work.»
She spent the next few hours setting a trap. She placed the recorder beside the television and let it capture hours of childrens cartoons and relentless adverts. The endless droning left the device with nothing but boredom.
Satisfied, Harriet slipped the recorder back into the rocker, careful to make it look untouched. The thrill of outwitting Anthony was almost tangible.
On Saturday, Anthony arrived. Harriet greeted him with a thin veneer of courtesy, her stomach knotting with anticipation. She watched him interact with Ethan, his eyes flickering toward the rocker.
«Ethan, why dont you show Daddy how you can trot on your horse?» she said, her voice sweet as honey.
Ethan leapt onto the wooden horse, his grin wide. Anthonys gaze lingered, a calculating glint surfacing.
Harriet waited, heart hammering, as Anthony slipped the recorder into his coat pocket unnoticed. She barely contained a smile, imagining his disappointment when he later played back the useless recordings.
Days passed and Anthony never mentioned the incident. His silence screamed louder than any accusation. It was as if he knew hed lost and chose not to admit defeat. Harriet took his quiet as a tacit surrender, a silent ceasefire.
Triumph and relief washed over her. She had protected her son and outsmarted her exhusband. That small, hardwon victory steeled her resolve to stay vigilant.
Anthony would never get the upper hand again. Not now, not ever.
Later, as Ethan drifted to sleep, Harriet stood in the dim kitchen, the rocker sitting innocently in the corner. The house was hushed, a calm after the storm.
She had been tested, and she had won. And she knew she would do it again, whatever came her way, to safeguard her son and keep his world a happy one.
