Every Sunday at 5 p.m., like clockwork, my stepson Josh returned from his mom’s house—silent, withdrawn, and nothing like the bright, bubbly boy he usually was with us. He never talked about his weekends there, and though I worried, I didn’t want to push too hard. As his stepmom, I wasn’t sure where my boundaries lay.
One evening, after Josh returned especially irritable, I asked my husband Patrick if he thought Josh was okay. He brushed it off, blaming it on Josh’s mom, Linda, being strict about school. But I wasn’t convinced—he was never like this with us, even when I nagged him about homework.
Patrick said he’d talk to Josh after dinner. When he did, Josh admitted that being at his mom’s house was “draining,” but he still wanted to keep visiting her. Patrick offered to change the arrangement to every other week, but Josh just went to bed instead.
Before leaving, though, he surprised me with a tight hug—his first sign of needing comfort.
Then, everything changed the following Sunday. While waiting for Josh to come in, our security system, linked to the TV, showed live footage from the porch. I watched as Linda handed Josh a container of cookies—and told him, “You know what you have to do.”
Josh resisted. “Mom, I don’t want to lie anymore. I hate stealing from Dad.”
My heart sank.
He continued, “Liv’s going to notice. She already has. I can’t keep taking her stuff.”
Turns out, Linda had been forcing Josh to steal from our home—sanitary products, lotions, and now she wanted jewelry and even cash from Patrick’s sock drawer.
I rushed to the door and confronted her.
Linda admitted she was in debt and desperate. I offered to help financially, but under one condition—Josh would stay with us until she got her life together, and she’d never again ask him to steal. Faced with the threat of me telling Patrick or pressing charges, she agreed.
As I turned to go back inside, Josh hugged me, crying. “I didn’t want to steal. I’m sorry.”
I held him tight. “It’s okay now. We’re going to fix this.”
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