My little girl answered my husband’s phone and forgot to hang up — what I overheard next left me pale
A young child doesn’t understand how to lie. So when five-year-old Lisa picked up her dad’s phone and whispered, “I can’t keep secrets from Mommy,” her mother, Laura, froze. She snatched the phone, and what she heard afterward was where the search for the heartbreaking truth started.
I still feel like I’m dreaming. Or having a panic attack. Maybe both. If I don’t get this off my chest, I might burst.
I’m Laura. I’m 35, married to Mark for six years, and we have a daughter named Lisa who is five. She is my entire world. She’s clever, inquisitive, and loves copying everything I do — pretending to answer calls, making grocery lists on my old phone, and even fake-texting as if she runs a business. It’s adorable. It has always been cute.
Until last Friday night. Mark had left his phone on the kitchen counter while he was showering upstairs. I was in the laundry room, knee-deep in socks and kids’ pajamas, when Lisa ran inside, holding his phone tightly.
“Mom! Daddy’s phone is ringing!”
I barely looked at her. “Let it go to voicemail, sweetheart.”
Too late. She had already swiped the screen.
“Hello?” she answered playfully, kicking her feet against the cabinets. Then she giggled. “Daddy’s not here. Who’s calling?”
I kept folding clothes, not paying much attention. Until she went quiet. Lisa rarely becomes silent.
I looked up. Her head tilted, eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed like she was “thinking.”
Then she whispered, “Okay… but I can’t keep secrets from Mommy.”
My stomach sank.
“Lisa?” I stepped closer and whispered. “Who’s on the phone, honey?”
She blinked up at me, confused. Then, without hanging up, she put the phone down and ran away. I grabbed it, and the moment I pressed it to my ear, I froze.
A woman’s voice — soft, calm, amused — spoke.
“That’s okay, sweetheart,” she whispered. “Daddy and I have plenty of secrets. Be a good girl and keep this just between us, okay?”
I clenched the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white.
“Hello?” My voice was sharp, urgent. “Who is this?”
Silence. Then — click. The line went dead.