Chapter 6: The Ally Who Was Never On My Side
I stared at the reflection in the photograph until my eyes started to hurt.
Betsy.
It couldn’t be.
At least, that was what I wanted to believe.
Because the alternative was worse.
The person who claimed she was trying to save me might have been standing beside my mother while she destroyed my wife.
I zoomed in again.
The image became blurry, but there was no mistaking the shape.
The same short gray hair.
The same necklace Betsy wore every Sunday.
The same blue cardigan she had worn at Frederick’s birthday party.
My hands went cold.
Amy woke up when I stood.
“Connor?””
I looked at her.
She immediately noticed something was wrong.
“What happened?””
I hesitated.
Then I showed her the phone.
She studied the picture.
Her expression changed slowly.
“She was there.””
I nodded.
“Yeah.””
“Betsy.””
“Yes.””
Amy looked away.
“I knew something felt wrong.””
I sat beside her.
“I don’t understand.””
Neither did I.
Betsy had sat across from me in that coffee shop.
She had looked guilty.
She had given me documents.
She had warned me about my mother.
Why would she do that if she was helping Teresa?
Unless…
Unless she wasn’t helping me.
Unless she was making sure I knew only the parts of the truth she wanted me to know.
The next morning, I didn’t meet my mother.
I didn’t answer her calls.
I didn’t respond to her messages.
Instead, I called Betsy.
She picked up after three rings.
“Connor?””
Her voice sounded nervous.
“I need to ask you something.””
A pause.
“Okay.””
“Where were you the day this picture was taken?””
Silence.
Not a long silence.
Just long enough.
But it was enough.
I closed my eyes.
“You were there.””
“Connor—”
“You were there, weren’t you?””
Her breathing changed.
“I can explain.””
“That’s what everyone says right before they tell another lie.””
“Connor, listen to me.””
“No.””
My voice became harder.
“I listened to everyone else for years. I listened to my mother. I listened when she said she was helping. I listened when she said Amy was the problem.””
I looked at the picture again.
“And now I’m supposed to listen to you?””
Betsy’s voice became quiet.
“I made mistakes.””
“That’s not an answer.””
“No.””
She sighed.
“It’s not.””
I waited.
Finally, she said:
“Yes. I was there.””
My stomach tightened.
“Why?””
“Because Teresa asked me to come.””
“What were you doing?””
Another pause.
“Taking notes.””
I felt sick.
“Notes?””
“Connor…”
“You were documenting my wife?””
“I didn’t understand what she was planning.””
I laughed bitterly.
“You were literally taking notes.””
“I thought she was trying to help you.””
“No.””
I stood.
“She was trying to take my family apart.””
Betsy didn’t argue.
That scared me more.
I met Betsy later that afternoon.
Not because I trusted her.
Because I needed answers.
We sat in my truck outside a quiet park.
Neither of us wanted to be overheard.
Betsy looked older than she had the day before.
“I owe you the truth.””
I stared through the windshield.
“That’s becoming a popular phrase.””
She accepted the insult.
“I was helping your mother.””
The honesty surprised me.
“Why?””
“Because I thought she was right.””
“About what?””
“About Amy.””
My hands tightened around the steering wheel.
Betsy looked down.
“I’m not proud of it.””
“No, you’re not.””
She swallowed.
“Teresa convinced me Amy was struggling mentally after the baby was born. She told me she was worried.””
“And you believed her.””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
Betsy looked at me.
“Because your mother is good at making herself look like the victim.””
I knew that.
I had lived it.
“She told me Amy was neglecting the house. That she was angry all the time. That you were exhausted.””
I shook my head.
“She made normal things sound dangerous.””
Betsy nodded.
“Yes.””
“Like what?””
She looked uncomfortable.
“She showed me messages.””
“What messages?””
“Arguments between you and Amy.””
My heart dropped.
“Private messages?””
“Yes.””
“How did she get them?””
Betsy looked away.
“I don’t know.””
But her expression said otherwise.
“You do know.””
She sighed.
“Teresa had access to your devices when she visited.””
I froze.
“What?””
“She said you gave her permission.””
I laughed once.
“No.””
I remembered.
My mother had asked to use my laptop months earlier.
She said she needed to check something.
I had handed it to her.
I trusted her.
Betsy continued.
“She printed conversations where Amy sounded upset.””
“Because Amy was exhausted.””
“Yes.””
“She used those messages to convince you she was unstable.””
Betsy nodded.
I felt anger rise through me.
Not explosive anger.
Something colder.
My mother didn’t just lie.
She collected pieces of my life.
She studied them.
She turned my own family against itself.
“Why did you warn me?”” I asked.
Betsy looked down.
“Because I saw what she was going to do next.””
“What?””
“She wanted you to divorce Amy.””
I stared at her.
“She told you that?””
“She didn’t say it directly.””
“Then how do you know?””
“Because she asked me to help prepare a story.””
My stomach twisted.
“What story?””
“That Amy was unstable. That she was irresponsible. That you were the only safe parent for Frederick.””
I felt the air leave my lungs.
“She wanted full custody.””
Betsy nodded.
“Yes.””
“And you helped her.””
The words hurt even me.
Because they were true.
Betsy wiped her eyes.
“I did.””
I looked at her.
“Why should I believe anything you say now?””
“You shouldn’t.””
That answer caught me off guard.
She continued.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me.””
“Then what do you want?””
“To stop her.””
“Why?””
She looked toward the park.
“Because yesterday, when I saw your wife crying with your son in her arms, I realized I had become part of something cruel.””
I didn’t respond.
Because regret didn’t erase damage.
It didn’t give Amy back the months she spent feeling alone.
But it did give me something.
Information.
And right now, information was the only weapon I had.
When I returned home, Amy was waiting.
She knew from my face.
“Betsy told you everything.””
I nodded.
“She helped your mother.””
Amy closed her eyes.
“I knew it.””
“You knew?””
“She was too interested.””
I frowned.
“What do you mean?””
Amy sat down.
“After Frederick was born, Betsy started asking questions.””
“What questions?””
“About my relationship with you.””
I listened carefully.
“She asked if I ever felt overwhelmed. If I ever regretted becoming a mother. If we argued.””
My jaw tightened.
“She was building the same story.””
“Yes.””
Amy looked at me.
“But I didn’t think they would go this far.””
I sat beside her.
“I’m sorry.””
She shook her head.
“Stop apologizing for things you didn’t do.””
“But I should have protected you.””
Amy looked at me.
“You’re protecting me now.””
That sentence stayed with me.
Because she wasn’t asking me to fix the past.
She was asking me to stand beside her in the present.
That night, I made a decision.
I was done reacting.
My mother wanted a battle?
Fine.
But I would not fight like her.
No threats.
No manipulation.
No lies.
Only truth.
I started collecting everything.
Bank records.
Messages.
Emails.
The fake documents.
The photograph.
Betsy’s confession.
Then, just after midnight, I received an email.
No subject.
No message.
Only an attachment.
A video file.
My heart started racing.
I opened it.
The footage showed our kitchen.
The angle was strange.
Hidden.
A security camera.
My mother’s voice came through.
I watched silently.
It was recorded the day before Frederick’s birthday.
My mother was standing with Betsy.
They were talking about Amy.
Then Teresa said something that made my blood run cold.
“She doesn’t need to know the plan yet.””
Betsy looked nervous.
“What if Connor finds out?””
My mother smiled.
“He won’t.””
The video continued.
And then my mother said the words that changed everything.
“Once Amy signs the custody paperwork, Connor will have no choice. He’ll either choose his mother or choose the woman who can’t handle being a wife.””
I stopped breathing.
Custody paperwork.
There it was.
Proof.
But then the video continued.
And my mother revealed something I never expected.
Something even worse.
She wasn’t planning to take Frederick away because she wanted control.
She was planning to take him away because someone else had promised her something.
Someone whose name appeared on the screen five seconds later.
And when I saw it…
I realized my mother’s plan was much bigger than I thought.
May you like
Because the person she was working with wasn’t a relative.
It was someone who had access to my entire life.
