23/07/2025
When I was a little girl, my mom taught me to use a code word if I ever found myself in trouble and couldn’t speak out. As an adult, I decided to pass this brilliant method on to my daughter. I thought she could use it to get out of sleepovers or awkward situations. But I never imagined she’d have to use it so soon.
Yesterday seemed like an ordinary day, at least that’s what I thought. While I was sitting in the kitchen finishing my evening coffee, the phone rang. It was my ex-husband, Dave. Our relationship, once full of warmth and love, had become strained over time.
Divorce happens, and although we tried to keep things civil for our daughter Amy, it was often tense. “Hi, Claire,” came Dave’s slightly unsure voice. “Amy wants to talk to you. She asked me to tell you about her day since she got here.”
This caught me off guard. Usually, Amy enjoyed spending weekends at her dad’s and rarely called me during those visits. “Oh, sure, I’ll put her on,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. The fact that Dave’s voice sounded a bit off only heightened my growing concern.
“Hi, Mom!” Amy’s voice was as cheerful as ever, but there was something in her tone I couldn’t immediately place. It was unlike her, so I listened more closely.
“Hi, sweetie! How’s your weekend? Are you having fun?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation light.
“Yes, all good. Yesterday we went to the park, and this morning I was drawing. I drew a dog, a tree, and... I wish I had a blue marker to draw blueberries.”
Those words hit me like a ton of bricks! There it was: our code word. My heart stopped, and for a moment I was speechless. Amid her childish chatter, Amy slipped in our “password.”
When my daughter was younger, I taught her the importance of having a secret word — something she could use if she felt unsafe but couldn’t say it out loud. “Blueberries” was our word, but I never imagined she’d actually have to use it.
I took a deep breath and forced myself to stay calm because that word meant “get me out of here immediately.” “Sounds great, honey. I’m coming for you now. Please don’t say anything to your dad. I’ll talk to him when I get there.”
“Is there anything else you want to tell me?”
“No, that’s all,” she replied, her tone gentle but with a hint of something else — fear? uncertainty? I couldn’t say for sure, but I knew one thing: I had to get her out of there.
“See you soon, okay?” I said as casually as I could.
“Okay, Mom. Love you.”
“Love you too, my Amy-Wamy.”
I heard her giggle as I hung up, my hands trembling. My mind raced, trying to figure out what could have happened. Dave had never given me any reason to doubt his ability to care for our daughter, but something was wrong.
I grabbed my keys, determination burning in my heart. I had to go to my ex-husband’s and pick up Amy.
When I finally arrived, I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. To my surprise, … (continued in the comments ⬇️⬇️⬇️)
