I stepped away to check the footage, expecting to see an explanation for the missing food.
What I saw made my stomach turn.
It was Pamela—my mother-in-law.
She walked into the kitchen as if she owned the place, heading straight for our fridge. She poured herself a glass of our anniversary wine, took out the gourmet cheese, and casually helped herself to the most expensive items she could find.
She knew exactly where everything was.
This wasn’t the first time.
But then, I saw something that made me even more uncomfortable.
After finishing her snacks, Pamela didn’t leave. Instead, she strolled down the hallway and into our bedroom.
I switched to the second camera feed, my heart pounding.
She was going through my closet.
Looking through my clothes, inspecting my favorite outfits.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
The Confrontation
The next day, I decided to stay home and see if Pamela would return.
Sure enough, at 2 p.m., she let herself in, just as she had before.
She walked straight to the kitchen, helped herself to some snacks, and then headed toward my room.
That’s when I stepped forward.
“Enjoying yourself?” I asked, my voice steady.
Pamela gasped, spinning around.
“Oh! Christine! I—I was just…”
“Just what?” I asked, crossing my arms. “Just letting yourself into my home? Just helping yourself to our food? Just going through my things?”
She straightened up, her expression shifting from surprise to defiance.
“I was making sure everything was in order,” she said with a huff. “As Samuel’s mother, I have a right to check in on things.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Where did you get a key, Pamela?”
She hesitated for a second before replying, “Samuel gave it to me.”
I knew that wasn’t true.
Later that night, I showed Samuel the footage.
His face darkened as he watched. “I never gave her a key,” he said, shaking his head. “How did she even get one?”
We got our answer the next morning when Pamela showed up, acting as if nothing had happened.
“Mom,” Samuel said, blocking the doorway. “Where did you get the key?”
She gave an innocent smile. “Oh, that? I just made a copy. For emergencies, of course.”
I folded my arms. “Emergencies like… unexpected snack cravings?”
She sighed. “Well, maybe if you shared more of your nice things with me, I wouldn’t have been so curious.”
Samuel’s expression hardened. Without a word, he placed a brand-new lock set on the table.
“That key won’t work anymore,” he said.
Pamela’s face tightened, but she yanked the key from her purse and slammed it onto the counter.
“Fine!” she snapped. “But don’t expect me to be there when you need me.”
I smiled. “We’ll manage.”
She stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
Finally, Peace
That same day, we changed all the locks.
Now, when I open my fridge, I know everything is exactly where I left it.
When I step into my bedroom, I know my things are untouched.
And as for Pamela?
Well, if she wants to know what we’re eating or what’s in my wardrobe these days…
She’ll just have to wonder.