The former owner of my car called, desperately asking to recover something he had left under the seat — when I found it, I turned pale

When Samira buys a secondhand car at a dealership, she thinks it a victory because it was something she had done all by herself. But the next morning, the mysterious previous owner of the car calls her, claiming that he left something “alive” under the seat of the car. Will Samira meet him or uncover the secret package by herself?

When I first bought my car, it was supposed to be a small victory. I had left my corporate job to take time off to write my collection of short stories. So, I didn’t want to splurge my savings until something big came my way financially.

It was nothing fancy, just a used Toyota Corolla from the local dealership. The thrill of owning it was enough to make me overlook any thoughts about its previous owner. Whoever they were, they were in my past, and I was cruising straight into my future.

Or so I thought.

But then came that random phone call which changed everything.

It was early, around 7 a.m., and I was in the middle of making my morning coffee when my phone buzzed with an unknown number.

Normally, I’d ignore it, but something about early morning and late-night unknown calls made me answer. I didn’t know if someone needed me.

“Hello?” I said, yawning.

“Hi, is this the new owner of the Toyota Corolla?” a man asked, anxiety in his voice.

“Yes, this is her. Who’s speaking?” I asked, suddenly feeling uneasy.

He took a deep breath.

“Oh, thank goodness! I’m so sorry to bother you, but I need your help. I was the previous owner of the car, and I left something under the seat of the car when I gave it in yesterday morning. You picked it up yesterday, yes?”

“Yes,” I replied, confused about what he was getting at.

“Okay. Good,” he paused. “I need to get my hands on what I left behind. It’s really important. It’s urgent, really.”

What on earth could be so important that he would track me down like this? Was the dealership even allowed to give out personal information?

“What did you leave?” I asked, trying to stay calm.

“It’s something… alive,” he stammered. “Please, ma’am, I need to come and get it as soon as possible. I promise you, I’ll explain when I see you.”

I remained silent for a moment.

Alive? The word echoed loudly in my mind. Was this man serious? What alive thing could possibly be in the car? My mind raced between a baby to a dog to even a package of narcotics that he was brushing off as something alive.

But I knew that I would have noticed something like that.

“Do you want to meet me somewhere or give me your address?” he continued.

I should have probably said no to all of the above. But there was something about him and the panic in his voice that made me hesitate to say no.

“Okay,” I finally said, my voice more firm than I felt. “Come over to my neighborhood. There’s a park not too far away from where I live. I’ll meet you there. I’ll send the address to this number.”

“That’s perfect,” he said, sighing in relief. “Don’t worry, it’s contained for now.”

I hung up and stared at my phone.

“What are you doing, Samira?” I asked myself. “Are you really going to meet a random person?”

But, what would be alive under my seat? My thoughts darted to worse-case scenarios again. What if it was a dangerous animal?

I had no idea what to expect, and that’s what made me nervous.

Twenty minutes later, I was standing next to the Corolla in the cool morning air, waiting for the mysterious stranger to show up.

The neighborhood was still quiet, and I imagined everyone in their homes slowly waking up or making breakfast for their families.

Finally, a man pulled up in an old pickup truck, just as he had texted me to say he would. His eyes scanned the area nervously before landing on me.

“I’m Ben,” he said. “Thank you for letting me come.”

He was younger than I imagined, and probably in his late twenties like myself, with dark hair that looked like he’d run his hands through it one too many times.

There was something endearing about his disheveled appearance, though I could tell he was genuinely worried.

Stop it, Samira, I told myself. This isn’t one of your romantic comedy stories. This isn’t a meet-cute.

“No problem,” I replied. “I’m Samira. So, what exactly did you leave under the seat?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he opened the driver’s door and dropped to his knees beside the car and reached under the seat. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, Ben pulled out a small, sealed box with tiny air holes punched into the top. My stomach did a flip as I imagined a tarantula inside the box.

“I’m really sorry to bother you like this,” he said, standing up and holding the box.

“What’s in there?” I asked, almost amused.

“I have a pet gecko at home, and I feed it live insects every day. Yesterday, I stopped at the pet store to pick up some food, including mealworms and roaches, but I must have left the box under the seat when I was unloading the car.”

It took a moment for his words to register with me.

“You left a box of live insects under the seat?” I asked.

“Not by choice,” he replied sheepishly. “I was late to hand over the car as well. So the moment I unloaded everything else at home, I rushed over to the dealership to leave the car… for you.”

“You’re lucky that they didn’t escape,” I said.

Suddenly, a laugh bubbled up inside me before I could stop it, and once it started, it was hard to stop.

He looked at me, confused for a second, before a grin spread across his face.

“I know, it’s ridiculous, right?” he said. “I was so freaked out that I couldn’t even sleep. I kept imagining them crawling around your car, and I just…”

“My goodness,” I exclaimed. “That would have been quite the surprise.”

The thought of driving around with a box full of escaped bugs lurking somewhere under the seat was both horrifying and hilarious.

“I’m really sorry, Samira,” he said, his grin fading into something more genuine. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just didn’t know what else to do. The gecko, Samson, is actually my little brother’s pet. And as wacky as it is, that kid loves it.”

“No judgment here,” I replied. “I had a pet frog for a solid two weeks as a kid until my mother found it bouncing around my room.”

That was enough to set us both off again. We laughed until tears ran down our faces.

“Let me make it up to you,” he blurted out suddenly. “How about I take you out for a coffee? As an apology for the… bug thing?”

I stared at him, caught off guard by the sudden offer. I hadn’t expected any of this. But at the same time, I felt like I was in one of the romance stories that I wrote.

There was just something about the way he asked, something genuine and a little bit hopeful.

“I… um,” I started to say. “Sure, why not?”

“Great!” he said, his face lighting up. “I know a place not too far away from here. Would you like to go now?”

I laughed at his enthusiasm.

“How about you take me to a car wash to wash away any bugs and my paranoia, and then we can grab a coffee?” I asked, half-joking, half-serious.

“Actually, that’s the least I can do,” he said. “Come on.”

Ben put the box of insects in his truck and locked the door. I threw my keys at him, which he caught perfectly.

As we drove to the car wash, Ben told me all about his little brother, who was living with him.

“There’s a big age gap between us,” he said. “But there’s a really good school two roads away from me. So he’s enrolled there.”

“That’s wonderful,” I said, watching his hands on the steering wheel. “I wish I had a younger sibling to keep me on the straight and narrow.”

When we got to the car wash, Ben ensured that we would take the full package.

“Give her a good wash, guys,” he said.

We went for coffee while the car was being attended to.

And I wondered what was going to happen next…

What would you have done?

I Found an Envelope in My MIL’s First Aid Kit – She and My Husband Had an Agreement Behind My Back

My mother-in-law’s “helpful” visits after my baby’s birth seemed innocent until I discovered an envelope hidden in her bathroom. What’s worse, the emails inside and legal documents revealed a betrayal that I never saw coming.

I sat in my living room, staring at the mess of baby supplies while my five-month-old son Ethan napped in his swing. Ruth, my mother-in-law, stood in front of me with her perfect posture and concerned smile.

A woman in her 60s smiling while standing in a messy living room full of baby stuff | Source: Midjourney

A woman in her 60s smiling while standing in a messy living room full of baby stuff | Source: Midjourney

“Why don’t you all stay at my house for a few days?” she suggested. “I have plenty of room, and you clearly need the support, dear.”

Before I could respond, Nolan jumped in. “That’s a great idea, Mom.” He turned to me, his expression pleading. “It will be good to have some help for a while. And Ethan will be in good hands.”

I wanted to say no. Ruth had been all up in our business since Ethan was born, always showing up unannounced or offering to take him to her house so I could “rest.” At first, I was thankful.

A tired-looking woman in her 30s holding a crying baby in a messy living room | Source: Midjourney

A tired-looking woman in her 30s holding a crying baby in a messy living room | Source: Midjourney

I was beyond exhausted from sleepless nights and juggling everything as a new mom. I didn’t even notice how overbearing she had become.

“You know, when I was raising Nolan, we did things differently. The right way,” she’d say while reorganizing my kitchen cabinets without asking. “Babies need structure, dear. They need experienced hands.”

As the weeks went by, Ruth grew more intense. She even converted her spare bedroom into a full nursery, complete with a crib, changing table, and rocking chair. She also bought duplicates of all of Ethan’s favorite toys.

A baby's room | Source: Pexels

A baby’s room | Source: Pexels

When I mentioned it seemed excessive, she just laughed. “Oh, Emma, you can never be too prepared! Besides, Ethan needs a proper space at Grandma’s house.”

Now here she was, suggesting we stay at her place. Nolan and her both stared at me expectantly, waiting for an answer.

I couldn’t fight them. I was just too tired. “Sure,” I mumbled. “A few days.”

So we crashed at my mother-in-law’s place for the night, and at exactly 7:30 a.m. the next morning, she was in the guest room doorway.

A woman smiling while standing at a doorway with her hands clasped | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling while standing at a doorway with her hands clasped | Source: Midjourney

“Oh, good morning! It’s the perfect time to get our sweet little pumpkin up. Have you fed him yet? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” she chirped.

Trying not to groan, I rose from the bed and walked out of the guest room while she fussed around in the nursery. The surroundings only made me feel worse. Her house was far from welcoming to me.

I always felt like an intruder there. The living room was immaculate, like a museum where nothing was meant to be touched. Family photos covered the walls, mostly of Nolan at various ages, with Ruth front and center in each one.

A home's hallway with photos hanging on the walls | Source: Midjourney

A home’s hallway with photos hanging on the walls | Source: Midjourney

I should’ve been grateful that we had help from family. Ruth was experienced and organized like no one else in the world. But I just couldn’t shake how uncomfortable this whole situation made me.

Before I reveal what happened next, I will say that you have to trust your intuition, especially after you become a mother. But hindsight is 20-20, right?

Looking back, all the signs were there. Ruth’s constant presence and her subtle criticisms wrapped in sweet concern were red flags. I just hadn’t put all the signs together yet, or I didn’t see how anyone could try to do something so… malicious.

An angry woman with her arms crossed in a messy kitchen | Source: Midjourney

An angry woman with her arms crossed in a messy kitchen | Source: Midjourney

Anyway, Ruth fed and got Ethan back to sleep almost straight away. It was still early, so she managed to convince Nolan to go grocery shopping.

Meanwhile, I had developed a pounding headache, so once they were gone, I went into Ruth’s bathroom to look for some painkillers. I opened her medicine cabinet, saw no pills, and reached for the first aid kit just in case she stored them there.

But something other than the bottles caught my attention. There was a manila envelope shoved in there. Weird. Why would there be an envelope in a first aid kit? It felt extremely out of place. Curiosity got the best of me, so I grabbed it.

A manila envelope | Source: Midjourney

A manila envelope | Source: Midjourney

I’m glad I peeked inside, although I would always advocate for other people’s privacy. In this case, though, the universe was telling me to do it.

Because as soon as I realized what I was reading, my blood ran cold. The envelope contained notes and documents that Ruth had carefully prepared. After putting all the puzzle pieces together, the intent was clear: she wanted to take Ethan from me.

The words “Custody Proceedings” jumped out in a particularly wordy set of papers stapled together. I realized with horror that these had been issued by an actual law firm.

A set of legal papers that say "Custody Proceedings" | Source: Midjourney

A set of legal papers that say “Custody Proceedings” | Source: Midjourney

Aside from that, the notes mentioned my every movement concerning chores and mothering duties:

“Emma sleeping while the baby cries – 10 minutes (photo attached)”

“House in disarray during surprise visit”

“Mother seems uninterested in proper feeding schedule”

All this time, while she was pretending to help, Ruth had been building a case against me. Photos I never knew she’d taken showed me at my worst moments: exhausted, crying, and overwhelmed.

A horrible image showed me breaking down on the back porch the one time I thought no one could see me.

A worried woman standing on the porch of a house | Source: Midjourney

A worried woman standing on the porch of a house | Source: Midjourney

But the real punch to the gut came from the email thread with a family lawyer.

“As discussed, my son Nolan agrees that his wife Emma is unfit to be Ethan’s primary caregiver,” Ruth had written. “She’s too tired to argue, which works in our favor. Soon, Ethan will be where he belongs: with me.”

My husband was involved in this too. I couldn’t even understand how or why. We were struggling, but we were doing fine for first-time parents.

A shocked woman holding papers while standing in a bathroom | Source: Midjourney

A shocked woman holding papers while standing in a bathroom | Source: Midjourney

My first instinct was to rip everything to shreds or set it on fire right there in her pristine bathroom. Instead, I took out my phone with trembling hands and photographed every single page. I needed evidence.

I had just returned to the living room when Nolan and Ruth came back from their grocery run. My whole body shook with rage as I pulled out the envelope and slammed it on the dining table.

“What is this?” I demanded.

Nolan’s face went pale. “Where did you find this?”

A man looking shocked | Source: Midjourney

A man looking shocked | Source: Midjourney

Ruth rushed in behind him. “Now, Emma, let me explain. This is all for Ethan’s well-being.”

“His well-being?” I laughed, but it came out more like a sob. “You mean your well-being. You’ve been planning this for months, haven’t you?”

“Emma, you have to understand,” Nolan stammered. “It was just a precaution, in case you didn’t get better.”

“Better?” I turned to him, my voice rising. “Better from what? Being a new mom? How could you? Were you really going to let your mother take our son?”

A woman yelling and gesturing with her hands | Source: Midjourney

A woman yelling and gesturing with her hands | Source: Midjourney

Nolan’s next words destroyed whatever was left of our marriage.

“Come on, Emma,” he sighed. “I don’t think we thought it through when you got pregnant. We’re too young for this. You don’t even pay attention to me anymore. Having Mom raising Ethan just makes sense, and we can focus on ourselves.”

“You have GOT to be kidding me!” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Are you that selfish? You don’t get enough attention, so you plot to take MY BABY from me?!”

“Emma, don’t yell,” Ruth scolded me. “You’ll wake the baby. You see? You’re too emotional to be a mother. Focus on being a good wife first, and then, we can talk about some visits.”

A woman holding her palm up | Source: Midjourney

A woman holding her palm up | Source: Midjourney

I had no more words, though my feelings raged like never before. If I were a dragon, I would’ve burned down her house. But I took a deep breath, focusing on sounding cool and collected when I finally spoke.

“You won’t get away with this.”

With that, I ran to the nursery where Ethan was still sleeping, scooped him up, and headed for the door. Ruth tried to block my path.

Baby sleeping in a crib | Source: Pexels

Baby sleeping in a crib | Source: Pexels

“Emma, you’re being hysterical. You can’t take this child! We’ll call the police!” she threatened, reaching for Ethan.

I pulled away from her. “Don’t you dare touch him!” I grabbed the diaper bag and my purse. “Call the police and I’ll tell them how you tried to rob a mother of her child! We’ll see who they side with!”

At the door, I turned back and gave my soon-to-be ex-husband a scorching glance as I said, “Stay away from us.”

With that, I left that house and drove straight to my friend Angelina’s house as carefully but as quickly as I could. Luckily, Ethan slept peacefully in his car seat, unaware that his whole world had just shifted.

Baby strapped to a car seat | Source: Pexels

Baby strapped to a car seat | Source: Pexels

That night, after crying on Angelina’s shoulder and putting Ethan to bed in her spare room, I started making calls. I found a lawyer who specialized in family law and emailed her the photos I’d taken of Ruth’s documents.

The next few weeks were brutal. It was a bunch of legal meetings and court appearances that only made my anxiety skyrocket. Luckily, the police never got involved.

But Ruth and her lawyers tried to argue that she was just a concerned grandmother. She was probably not expecting my representative to use all the gathered notes and photos to prove that her intentions were nothing but manipulative.

An older woman sitting in court with a serious expression | Source: Midjourney

An older woman sitting in court with a serious expression | Source: Midjourney

Also, when questioned, Nolan acted like a baby, confessing to doing everything his mother wanted. Once the judge heard that, he understood the truth.

So, Ruth didn’t just lose any chance at custody, but she also got slapped with a restraining order at my lawyer’s insistence. She can’t come within 500 feet of me or Ethan.

I filed for divorce from Nolan one week after custody was settled. The agreement gave him only supervised visitation rights. He didn’t even fight it. He probably knew he didn’t have a leg to stand on after everything that happened before.

Court papers for marriage dissolution | Source: Pexels

Court papers for marriage dissolution | Source: Pexels

Now, Ethan and I are back in our house, making it our own again. To get rid of the painful memories, I painted the walls with new colors, rearranged all the furniture, and got my life together.

Sometimes I still get tired, but what mom doesn’t? Also, it’s much better now that I’m not dealing with a useless husband and a scheming mother-in-law.

And when my days seem endless, I remember Ethan’s sweet smile staring up at me, his momma, and that’s all I need to keep going.

A woman smiling while holding a laughing baby | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling while holding a laughing baby | Source: Midjourney

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