Then came Friday—the night that changed everything.
As I tucked Tia in, she clung to me, tears streaming down her face. “Please, Mommy, don’t make me sleep here! I hear them buzzing!”
Seeing her so frightened broke my heart. “Alright, let’s check again,” I said. We walked to the closet, and when I opened the door, I heard a faint buzzing sound.
“Did you hear that?” Tia whispered, gripping my hand tighter.
“It’s probably just the pipes,” I replied, but soon realized the buzzing was coming from inside the wall.
Trying to stay calm, I suggested a sleepover in my room. Tia’s face lit up, and she finally slept soundly. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
The next morning, I called an exterminator. When Mike arrived and examined the wall, his expression turned serious.
“Ma’am,” he said, “you have a significant issue here.” He pointed to a crack near the baseboard. “There’s a large beehive inside this wall. It’s been growing for a while.”
I was stunned. “How did we not notice this sooner?”
“Bees can be elusive,” he replied. “But it’s good you called. This hive is massive; they could have broken through if left unchecked.”
All I could think about was how I had overlooked Tia’s concerns. She had sensed something was wrong, and I hadn’t listened.
That night, I sat down with Tia. “Honey, I owe you an apology,” I said. “You were right about the noises. There weren’t people, but there were bees—lots of them.”
“Buzzy bees?” she asked, eyes wide.
I nodded. “Yes, and I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you sooner.”
Tia smiled and hugged me. “It’s okay, Mommy. I forgive you.”
From that moment on, I promised never to ignore her fears again. We’re now staying in the guest room while the exterminators remove the hive. It will take a few days, but I’m thankful I called for help before it got worse.
I often think about what could have happened if those bees had gotten into Tia’s room. It would have been a nightmare.