“He wanted to stay with me,” the mother-in-law said, clicking the garden gate shut, leaving Olivia standing outside in nothing but her thin dressing gown and slippers.
The latch snapped like a judges gavel. For several seconds, Olivia couldnt move, staring at the carved wooden door where her seven-year-old son had just disappeared. Her son. Her Ethan.
“Margaret!” she finally cried out, yanking the gate handle with all her strength, but it wouldnt budge. “Margaret, open this! What are you doing? Ethan! Ethan, love!”
Silence. Only the wind rustling dead leaves in Margarets front garden. Olivia turned, a shiver running through her. Shed rushed out without her coat, and the October wind sliced through her flimsy robe. Her heart felt just as cold, just as hollow.
It had all started with an innocent breakfast conversation.
“Mum, can I stay at Grans this weekend?” Ethan mumbled through a mouthful of cereal. “She got me new football stickers and baked a chocolate cake.”
Olivia winced. Margaret always bribed him with treats and toys, setting herself up as the fun one while Olivia enforced bedtime and homework.
“Sweetheart, youve got swimming Saturday, remember? And Sunday, Dad and I planned a trip to the zoo.”
Ethans face fell. He pushed his bowl away.
“I dont want the zoo. I want Grans. Shes lonely. Its fun there.”
“Fun how?” Olivia couldnt help snapping. “Staying up late watching telly and stuffing yourself with sweets?”
“Liv, dont,” her husband, James, muttered without looking up from his paper.
“Oh, how should I, James?” She rounded on him. “Your mother spoils him rotten. Then hes up all night with a stomachache, and Im left picking up the pieces.”
“Shes just being a gran,” James shrugged. “Let her spoil him. Well drop him off Saturday after swimming and fetch him Sunday evening.”
Olivia relented. She always did when it came to Margaret. The woman was a fortressunyielding, impossible to reason with.
Now, on Saturday afternoon, theyd brought Ethan over. Olivia stepped inside, exchanging stiff pleasantries with Margaret, who greeted her with icy politeness before melting into sickly sweetness for Ethan.
“Theres my golden boy! Gran missed you! Got those football stickers you wanted! And a Victoria spongeyour favourite!”
Ethan threw himself into her arms. Olivia lingered awkwardly in the hallway.
“Right. James is waiting in the car. Well fetch you Sunday around six.”
“Fine, fine,” Margaret tossed over her shoulder, already steering Ethan toward the sitting room. “Dont miss us too much.”
Olivia left, but halfway to the car, she remembered Ethans jumper still hanging in the hall. She turned back, pushed the still-unlocked gateand froze at the voices from the sitting room.
“Thats right, youll stay with Gran. For a long, long time. Your own room here, toys, whatever you like.”
“What about Mum and Dad?” Ethans small voice piped up.
“Oh, they they need a break. Youll live here with me. Ill let you do anything you want. And schools just down the roadno nasty bus rides like from your house.”
Olivias blood turned to ice. She stormed into the hallway.
“Margaret, what on earth are you saying?”
Her mother-in-law turned, face smooth, unreadable.
“Just telling the lad how lovely itll be here.”
“He is not staying! This was just for the weekend!” Olivias voice shook with fury.
“Changed my mind,” Margaret said coolly. “A boy should be with his gran. Better environment. Peace and quiet. Your place? Chaos. Shouting. Stress.”
“Youre insane!” Olivia choked. “Ethan, get your things. Were leaving.”
“Hes not going,” Margaret stepped in front of him. “He wants to stay. Dont you, love? Tell your mum youd rather live with Gran.”
Olivia looked at her sonclutching Margarets skirt, eyes brimming with terrified tears.
“Mum, I I just wanna stay a bit”
“You see?” Margaret crowed. “His choice. Dont be selfish, Olivia. Think of his happiness.”
“This is kidnapping!” Olivia screamed. “Ill call the police!”
“Go ahead,” Margaret smirked. “Whatll you say? That Gran wont give back the grandson who chose to stay? Ive got everything he needs. You? James works two jobs, youre always stressed, the flats a mess. Whod hand a child back to that?”
The ground tilted beneath Olivia. She reached for Ethan.
“Darling, please. Come home.”
He flinched, clinging tighter to Margaret.
A car horn blared outsideJames, growing impatient.
“Off you go,” Margaret said. “Dont make a scene.”
Dazed, Olivia stumbled out. She turned to call for Jameswhen the gate slammed shut.
“He wanted to stay with me,” Margarets voice floated through the wood.
Olivia stood paralyzed. Then, with a choked sob, she threw herself at the gate, pounding the wood.
“Give me back my son! Open this now! Ethan! Ethan, come out!”
No answer. Just wind and a distant dog barking. James got out of the car.
“Liv? Whats wrong?”
She ran to him, gasping. “Sheshe wont give him back! Says hes staying!”
Jamess face darkened. He strode to the gate and jammed the doorbell.
“Mum! Open up! This is madness!”
Finally, a voicenot Margarets, but Ethans, small and scared:
“Dad I dont wanna”
“Ethan, open the door!” James shouted.
“Cant Gran hid the key”
James staggered back as if struck. He looked at Olivia, lost.
“Shes lost it completely.”
“I told you!” Olivia sobbed. “I told you she was obsessed! And you just let hernow look!”
James pulled out his phone.
“Im calling the constable. This is illegal.”
He stepped away, phone to his ear. Olivia pressed her forehead to the cold wood.
“Ethan, sweetheart, dont be scared. Well sort this. Well get you.”
A muffled sniffle.
“Mum Gran said I could have sweets”
Olivias heart shattered. He was right there, just behind this doorfrightened, confused, lured by promises of treats.
James returned, grim.
“Constable says if hes with family and not in danger, its not kidnapping. We can file a report, but itll take time.”
“Time?” Olivia whispered. “Shell brainwash him by then!”
She battered the gate again.
“Margaret! Open this now or Ill break it down!”
At last, Margarets voice, smooth and venomous:
“Calm down, dear. Youre embarrassing yourself. Ethan stays. Go home. Well talk tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?!” Olivia shrieked. “Give him back now!”
But she knew force wouldnt work. They were fools at a locked gate while their son was held hostage.
James tugged her sleeve.
“Come on. This isnt helping.”
“Just leave him?” she wrenched free.
“No,” he said firmly. “But we need the police. Properly.”
She let him lead her to the car, shaking, glancing back at that hateful gate.
At the station, the officer eyed them skeptically.
“Gran wont give him back, but he wants to stay?”
“Hes seven!” Olivia cried. “She bribed him!”
The officer sighed. “Well send someone.”
The wait was agony. They sat in the car outside their empty flat. Olivia wept. James smoked silently, face gaunt.
At last, the call came. Jamess shoulders slumped.
“They went. Said hes fine, playing with his stickers. Suggested we all talk tomorrow.”
“Thats it?” Olivia whispered.
“No forced entry unless hes in danger.”
Hopelessness crushed her. The system had failed. Their son was trapped.
James suddenly straightened.
“Theres one person Uncle Robert. Mum listens to him.”
They raced to his house. Robert, baffled, let them in. As they spilled the story, his expression darkened.
“Bloody hell, Margarets lost it.”
“Please, talk to her!” Olivia begged.
Robert grabbed his coat. “Lets go.”
Back at Margarets, Robert hammered the door.
“Open up! Its Robert!”
Margaret appeared, scowling.
“Robert? What”
“Enough!” he barked. “Give the boy back.”
“He chose”
“Rubbish!” Robert cut her off. “This is
