When Darla’s children kept falling ill after visits to their grandmother’s house, she initially chalked it up to their immune systems adjusting. But one unexpected trip back to Grandma Eileen’s revealed a disturbing reality.
I never thought I’d be sharing something so personal, but here I am.
On the surface, my life seems pretty standard. I live in a cozy suburban neighborhood with my husband, Nathan, and our two boys, Alex and Ben. It’s the picture-perfect family setup—cute house, friendly neighbors, and even a tire swing out front.
Nathan’s a great husband and father, except when it comes to his mom, Eileen.
Eileen lives a few hours away in a house that feels frozen in time. Our boys love visiting her; to them, it’s a grand adventure. But lately, they always seemed to come back sick.
I thought it was just a coincidence—kids get colds, right? I couldn’t have been more wrong.
“Kids getting sick is normal, Darla. It helps build their immunity,” Nathan said when I first brought it up.
“But isn’t it strange they only get sick after seeing your mom?” I asked.
Nathan shrugged it off. “You’re overthinking it. It’ll make them stronger.”
Even though he wasn’t worried, I had a gut feeling that something wasn’t right.
One Saturday, I dropped the boys off at Eileen’s, feeling uneasy. They ran out of the car excited, while Eileen greeted me with her usual forced smile.
“They’ll be fine, Darla,” she said, but something in her tone unsettled me.
On the way home, I realized I’d forgotten their bag of extra clothes. I turned around and headed back to Eileen’s house.
When I got there, the house was silent. As I approached the door, I heard Eileen’s sharp voice from inside.
“Ten more! Keep going!”
My stomach dropped. I peeked through the window and saw my boys in their underwear, shivering, doing push-ups on the freezing floor with the windows wide open. Eileen stood over them, barking orders like a drill sergeant.
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