I used to think that my mother-in-law was a kind and respected woman.
As a teacher and a person who was highly regarded in society, she had a reputation for being generous and loving, especially towards my family.
She seemed to love my two boys very much — Peter, who is 12, and Matthew, who is 6.
Peter, from my first marriage, lost his father when he was four, and despite the difficulties, we built a new life together.
My husband Greg was wonderful with Matthew and tried to build a relationship with Peter, although at times I felt he allowed his mother Linda to have too much influence over our family.
For a while, I didn’t ask any questions.
After all, Linda seemed so warm and caring.
But lately, Peter had become more withdrawn after visiting her, and something about his behaviour worried me.
When I asked him if everything was okay, he just shrugged and said, ‘Yes, Mum, everything’s fine.’
I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, but I didn’t press him.
I thought he would talk when he was ready.
One day, I decided to surprise my boys and pick them up from Linda’s earlier than usual.
They spent several days a week at her house during the summer holidays, and I thought it would be nice to bring them some treats and toys.
But when I drove up to the house and went inside, I encountered something I hadn’t expected at all.
When I approached the door, I heard Linda’s voice—sharp and angry: ‘Peter! I told you to stay in your room and not come out, you little…’
My heart was pounding, and I stopped to listen carefully.
Then I heard Peter’s trembling voice pleading, ‘Grandma, please forgive me…’
Her response stunned me.
‘I’m not your grandmother! Don’t ever call me that again. You’ll stay in this room until I allow you to come out.’
I couldn’t believe my ears.
This was not the loving grandmother I thought I knew.
Matthew’s quiet voice interjected, ‘Please, Grandma, don’t be angry with Peter. He didn’t mean any harm.’
My heart broke at the thought of my two boys being in this situation.
I had to do something, but I couldn’t just barge in.
I needed proof.
With trembling hands, I took out my phone and turned on the recorder to capture everything that was happening.
Linda continued to insult Peter and say horrible things that no child should ever have to hear.
When I had recorded enough, I put on a calm face, opened the door with a forced smile and said, ‘Surprise!’
Peter stood by the door with his head down, while Matthew ran up to me and hugged my leg.
‘Mummy! You’re here!’ he cried happily.
I knelt down to hug him and glanced surreptitiously at Peter, who looked so small and dejected.
‘Come here, Peter,’ I said quietly, trying to keep my anger inside.
He slowly approached me, and I hugged him, feeling his small body tremble.
Linda, the brilliant actress, said in a falsely sweet voice, ‘Oh, he’s just upset about the game we were playing.’
Her smile was saccharine, but I wasn’t fooled.
‘We’ve had a long day,’ I said quickly, cutting her off.
‘I’m taking the boys home.’
As I drove home, my thoughts raced.
Anger boiled inside me.
I thought Linda was kind, but all this time she had been cruel to my son.
Greg had to know about this, but just talking to Linda wouldn’t be enough.
I wanted the whole world to see her for who she really was.
Later that evening, while the boys were playing in their rooms, I sat quietly and played the recording again.
Hearing her words again, I felt the anger inside me flare up with renewed intensity.
I knew what I had to do.
My revenge would not take the form of confrontation; it would be public and devastating.
Through a friend, I learned that Linda was scheduled to give a speech at an upcoming school event, where she was to be honoured as an exemplary teacher.
The irony of this did not escape me.
With the help of my friend, who was tech-savvy, we came up with a plan.
Like any other mother, I had to attend the event, and when Linda began her speech, we would show the video to the entire hall.
On the day of the event, I sat quietly at the back of the auditorium, my heart pounding.
Linda, beaming with pride, greeted everyone as if nothing had happened.
But when she stepped onto the stage to begin her speech, the screen behind her lit up, and her real voice — cold and cruel — filled the room.
‘Listen to me, Matthew. He is not your brother and never will be,’ her voice boomed.
The audience gasped in shock.
Parents exchanged incredulous glances, and teachers who had previously admired her stood rooted to the spot.
Linda’s face paled as she realised what was happening.
She looked at the screen behind her in horror.
There was no way out.
Every cruel word she had said to Peter was now public knowledge.
The hall filled with indignant voices.
‘How could she say that to a child?’ whispered one of the parents.
Others stood up and declared that they did not want her teaching their children.
The headmaster rushed to the microphone, trying to calm the crowd, but it was too late.
Linda’s reputation was destroyed in an instant.
At the end of the day, Linda was suspended from work pending an investigation.
Her career was effectively over.
As I drove home that night, I felt relieved.
Justice had been served, and my son was safe.
Linda would never be able to harm Peter again.
At home, I hugged my boys tightly, knowing that they didn’t need to know all the details of what had happened.
All that mattered was that they were safe and that Linda’s reign of cruelty was finally over.
