Her pulse quickened. She squeezed the torso gently. Beneath the stuffing, she felt something hard. Rectangular.
There was also a seam along the side — nearly invisible, but different from the factory stitching.
That night, Grace couldn’t sleep.
If she accused Victoria without proof, she would be fired immediately — and lose any chance to protect Ethan. If she stayed silent, the baby would keep suffering.
The next afternoon, she got her opportunity.
Victoria went to lunch on Rodeo Drive. Jonathan was on a business trip in New York City. Only Grace and Ethan were home.
Grace placed Ethan safely in his playpen and brought the teddy bear to the kitchen island. Under bright white lights, she carefully unstitched the unusual seam with a small pair of sewing scissors.
Her hands trembled, but her cuts were precise.
After twenty minutes, she uncovered a small device wrapped in black plastic. A battery pack. A receiver. A thin heating element with low-voltage contact points.
Grace didn’t know electronics.
But she knew cruelty when she saw it.
She photographed everything with her phone, then carefully restuffed and resewed the bear.
That wasn’t enough.
She needed proof of who activated it.
Three days later, Jonathan mentioned at breakfast he’d be coming home early to spend time with Ethan.
Grace saw Victoria’s expression shift — just for a second.
At 3:45 p.m., Victoria was in the nursery with Ethan. Grace entered with an excuse.
“Mrs. Miller, the florist needs to confirm where you’d like the arrangements before Mr. Miller arrives.”
Victoria sighed and left the room.
Grace carried Ethan — still holding the teddy bear — into the upstairs hallway, directly beneath one of the home’s security cameras. She sat on a bench, making sure everything was clearly visible.
Moments later, the front door opened.
“Where’s my little man?” Jonathan called cheerfully.
Victoria hurried upstairs, smile in place.
She took Ethan into her arms.
Grace didn’t look away from Victoria’s right hand.
Pocket.
Thumb.
Press.
Ethan screamed.
Jonathan froze halfway up the staircase. His smile vanished.
“Why does he always react like this when I get home?” he whispered, devastated.
“It’s just a phase,” Victoria replied sweetly. “The pediatrician said so.”
Grace stayed still. The camera captured everything.
Another subtle thumb movement.
Ethan’s cries slowly faded.
That night, Grace knocked on Jonathan’s office door.