My neighbor Mrs. Chen asked me to babysit her daughter Lily every Tuesday while she went to “book club.” Easy money, right? Lily was sweet, quiet, always drawing pictures at the kitchen table while I did homework.
One Tuesday, Lily drew a picture of her mom. Except Mrs. Chen was wearing a white coat and holding what looked like a clipboard. “That’s mommy at work,” Lily said.
“I thought your mom went to book club on Tuesdays?”
Lily looked at me like I was stupid. “No, she goes to see daddy.”
I knew Mr. Chen traveled for work. “Your dad’s home on Tuesdays?”
“No, silly. Daddy lives at the hospital. He can’t leave.”
Mrs. Chen came home at 9pm like always, smiling, asking if Lily behaved. I didn’t mention the drawing. Instead, I googled “psychiatric hospitals near me” that night.
Found one 30 minutes away. Visited their website. There was a photo gallery from a charity event.
Mrs. Chen was in one photo, volunteer badge clearly visible, standing next to a patient for a staged photo op.
The patient’s name was listed in the caption: “David Chen, resident since 2019.”
I stopped babysitting after that. Didn’t give a reason. But sometimes I still think about Lily drawing those pictures, about Mrs. Chen spending every Tuesday at that hospital, keeping up the lie that daddy just traveled a lot for work.