My stomach churned.
What the hell?
I grabbed scissors and carefully opened the seam along her back. Inside, hidden between the stitching, was a tiny voice recorder. My hands shook as I pulled it out and pressed play.
Static crackled, followed by a man’s distorted voice. It was calm, deliberate, cold, and mimicked a woman’s voice.
She’s not your real mom, Jamie. She’s lying to you.
I felt sick. There was only one person twisted enough to do this. I played it again, needing to make sure.
Yes, there was no mistaking it. Thomas, my ex-husband. This was the voice he used when he was reading to Jamie and playing the parts of a female character.
Let me explain.
My ex and I split shortly after Jamie was born. He was an absent father in every sense of the word, rarely visiting, and paying the bare minimum in child support. Naturally, the courts granted me full custody years ago, and Jamie barely knew him.
Then, six months ago, something shifted. My ex suddenly wanted to reconnect. He started sending gifts, making empty promises of visits and trips, and calling more frequently. A few weeks ago, his visits included reading to Jamie.
None of it felt genuine. I suspected he had an agenda, but I couldn’t have imagined this.
The next morning, I called him.
“We need to talk,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “Meet me at Java & Joe’s in an hour.”
When he walked into the coffee shop, his smug expression set my teeth on edge. I didn’t waste any time. I slid the voice recorder across the table and hit play.
The color drained from his face.
“I know what you did,” I said quietly, though my anger simmered beneath the surface.
He laughed nervously.
“You’re overreacting, Julie. Whatever it is, you’re just overreacting and probably making things up. You’ve always done that.”
“Overreacting?” My voice cut through the air like a whip. People were looking now.
“You planted this in Jamie’s elf. You used his trust against him. Do you have any idea what that’s done to him? To me?”
He shifted in his seat, trying to recover.
“Jamie deserves to know the truth.”
I leaned in, my glare icy.
“Cut the crap. What are you really up to, Thomas?”
He hesitated, then cracked under the pressure. Finally, he admitted everything.
He’d recently remarried. His new wife desperately wanted a child, but she couldn’t have any.
“Denise wants a family, and Jamie… he’s my son. He should live with me,” he said, as if that justified his insane actions.
A shiver shot down my spine, but he wasn’t finished.
He confessed that he had been working on Jamie during their visits, planting doubts about me, saying I wasn’t “nice” or that his house was so much “better” for Jamie.
The voice recording was only the beginning. Thomas planned to use Sparkle to convince Jamie that he’d be happier living with him and his new wife.

“Sparkle was going to convince him that Denise was his real mother.”
And this wasn’t even the worst part.
Thomas and Denise were gearing up for a custody battle.