“One day my little daughter told me, ‘Mom, every time Grandpa gives me a bath, he asks me to play a game. I have to close my eyes, and while they’re closed, he does something…’ I froze. The next day, I opened the bathroom door without warning… and what I saw made my legs start shakingr told me, ‘Mom, every time Grandpa gives me a bath, he asks me to play a game. I have to close my eyes, and while they’re closed, he does something…’ I froze. The next day, I opened the bathroom door without warning… and what I saw made my legs start shaking

had told me,

“You’re busy. I’ll get Emily ready for bed.”

Another time, the bathroom door had been closed. When I knocked, I heard both of them laughing. Back then, I had smiled.

Now the same memory felt completely different. All day, I kept telling

myself I was overreacting. But something in me

refused to let it go.

The next evening, Dad came over again. After dinner, Emily ran up to him.

“Grandpa, are we going to play our game today?”

I looked at my father. He smiled.

“If your mom doesn’t mind.”

“Of course,” I said.

 

But I had already made up my mind. Ten minutes later, I heard the water running.

Then Emily laughing. I slowly walked toward the bathroom. The door was closed, but not locked. I stepped close enough to