Emily nodded.
“One day, Grandpa forgot to end a call and I heard what the doctor told him. He asked me not to tell you anything. I stayed with him because at night his hands were shaking. I brought him water and made sure he took his medicine.
Nothing I had feared was real.
But the truth turned out to be much more painful.
I knelt in front of Emily and hugged her tightly. Then I looked at my father.
There will be no more secrets. Especially secrets that a child is expected to keep.
My father nodded.
“You’re right. I gave him a responsibility that should never have fallen on a girl.
The next week I accompanied my father to the doctor. We organized her treatment and explained to Emily that taking care of adults was not her responsibility.
We also made sure she understood that she could always tell me any secret or comment that made her uncomfortable.
Three months later, the finished sculpture was placed in front of the library entrance.
She represented a little girl holding an open book.
On opening day, my father stood by Emily while she proudly held her hand.
At the base of the statue there was only one sentence:
“For children who teach us that the truth should never remain secret.”
