Finding a hidden camera under the bathtub was terrifying, but my son’s tearful explanation revealed a mission to reawaken a part of me I thought was lost.

For weeks, a jigsaw puzzle lay unfinished on the kitchen table. Drake rushed to his room after school, often coming home late. Concerned, I watched our neighbors enjoy their families while our home felt disconnected.

One evening, I discovered a crumpled piece of paper in Drake’s backpack, an address scribbled: “1247 Maple Street. Don’t be late.” Alarmed, I wondered what he was up to.

That night, after an emotional parent-teacher conference revealed Drake was distracted, I sought solace in the shower. I sang “Sweet Child O’ Mine,” reminiscing about happier times. But when I found my old nanny cam under the bathtub, I was filled with dread.

Pounding on Drake’s door, I demanded answers. He looked horrified when I showed him the camera. “Mom, you weren’t supposed to find out!” he cried.

“Why were you recording me?” I pressed, panic rising.

“Because I wanted to show you how amazing you are!” he said, tears in his eyes. “Remember when you sang at the coffee shop? I’ve been making a video to surprise you!”

He turned his laptop toward me, revealing a heartfelt music video featuring my voice. “Mr. Arthur’s been teaching me video editing,” he explained.

As we embraced, I realized we had both been hiding our feelings. The next day, we visited Mr. Arthur together, ready to rediscover our passions side by side.