After that, I began wondering whether there was some family secret nobody wanted to tell me.
Then, three months later, Grandpa came to our house unexpectedly.
It was almost nine at night.
Dad was upstairs.
Grandpa looked unusually serious.
“Emily,” he said quietly, “can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
He looked toward the staircase before stepping closer.
“Will you sleep beside me tonight?”
I stared at him.
I honestly thought I had misunderstood.
“What?”
“Tonight,” he repeated. “At my house.”
My stomach tightened.
Then he said something that made it worse.
“Please don’t tell your father yet.”
I took one step backward.
“Grandpa… why?”
His eyes suddenly filled with something I couldn’t understand.
Fear.
“Because if he knows,” Grandpa whispered, “he won’t let you come.”
At that exact moment, we heard Dad walking downstairs.
