The house remained completely silent.
Then I heard my father’s voice coming from the top floor.
“Get right. Exactly like this. You have the perfect proportions.
Emily let out a chuckle.
When can Mom see him?
“Not yet. He could be scared. We have to finish it first.
My heart began to beat with violence.
I went up the stairs and saw that the door that was previously locked was ajar. I put my hand on the doorknob and went into the room.
Stay away from my daughter!
My father became startled.
Emily was standing in the middle of the room, dressed in completely normal clothes. Next to him was something big covered by a sheet. All over the floor were pieces of wood, paintings and tools.
“Mom, you shouldn’t see this!” Emily exclaimed.
I immediately attracted her to me.
What’s going on here?
My father had paled.
Claire, I can explain.
“Start explaining why you told my daughter that she had a pretty figure!
Read in the comments what happened next! 
He remained silent for several seconds.
He then approached the object in the middle of the room and removed the white sheet.
I backed up, confused by what I was seeing.
It was the wooden statue of a girl.
The face was still unfinished, but the clothes, hair and posture looked like Emily’s.
“They’re going to open a new children’s library in the city,” my father explained. They asked me to create the sculpture of a young reader to place it at the entrance. Emily wanted to be the model. When I said I had a “pretty figure,” I was talking about the proportions of the sculpture. I chose my words very badly. I should have talked more carefully.
For a few moments I felt relief.
But then I remembered everything else.
Why were they hiding it from me?
Emily looked at the grandfather and my father’s eyes filled with tears.
“Because sculpture was not the real secret,” he replied. The secret was something completely different.
He opened the bottom drawer in a closet and pulled out several medical documents.
Two months earlier, he had been diagnosed with an early-stage neurological disease. Doctors had warned him that, over time, he could lose accuracy on his hands and start suffering from memory problems.
“Maybe this is my last sculpture,” he whispered. I didn’t want to tell you until I was completely sure. You’ve got enough worries already.
At the time I understood why Emily always wanted to stay with him.
“You knew?” I asked my daughter.
