He looked at me sharply.
“Emily, I never said that.”
“You’ve spent years warning me about him!”
Dad rubbed both hands over his face.
“I was trying to protect—”
He stopped.
“Protect who?”
He wouldn’t answer.
Twenty minutes later, we were driving toward Grandpa’s house.
Neither of us spoke.
My imagination became worse with every mile.
When we arrived, Grandpa was waiting at the door.
The moment he saw Dad, he sighed.
“I asked her not to tell you yet.”
“And you honestly thought she wouldn’t?”
Grandpa gave a tired smile.
“No. I suppose I didn’t.”
I stayed behind Dad as we entered.
Grandpa walked toward the hallway.
“Come.”
I expected him to open his bedroom door.
Instead, he passed it.
Then he opened the door to a small room at the back of the house that had been locked for as long as I could remember.
