Lizzie used to love going to daycare — laughing, playing, and running through the doors every morning. But one day, everything changed. Our once-cheerful daughter began crying and begging not to go. Each morning became a battle filled with tears, and no amount of comfort could calm her down. When the teachers insisted she was “fine” once we left, Dave and I knew something wasn’t right.

Desperate for answers, Dave hid a small microphone inside Lizzie’s teddy bear, Mr. Snuggles. That morning, we dropped her off as usual and waited in the car, listening through an app. For a while, all we heard were normal daycare sounds — until a chilling voice broke through: “Hey, crybaby. Miss me? Remember, if you tell anyone, the monster will come for you and your parents.” It wasn’t a teacher — it was another child. Our hearts stopped.

We raced inside and found Lizzie huddled in a corner as an older girl demanded her snack. When we played the recording for the staff, shock spread through the room. The bully, named Carol, was immediately expelled. Lizzie ran into our arms, sobbing that Carol had shown her “monster pictures” to keep her silent. We reassured her that the monsters weren’t real — but the fear she’d lived with certainly was.

In the days that followed, we kept Lizzie home, found a safer daycare, and began therapy to help her heal. Carol’s parents reached out, devastated by what their daughter had done, and we hoped she’d get help too. As I tucked Lizzie in that night, she asked how we’d known something was wrong. I smiled through tears and whispered, “Because mommies and daddies have superpowers — we always know when our kids need us.”