Then she nodded.
A cold feeling settled in my stomach.
“Did you ever tell Mom you were uncomfortable around Grandpa?”
“A little.”
“What happened?”
“She said Grandpa loves me and gets lonely.”
The room suddenly felt smaller.
Every memory from the last few months came rushing back.
The family dinners.
The extra visits.
The excuses.
The moments I had ignored because they seemed harmless.
Now they looked very different.
I took a steady breath.
“Okay,” I said. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”
She looked at me nervously.
“I want you to put on a sweater and stay in the bathroom across the hall. Lock the door. Keep your phone with you.”
Her eyes widened.
“Where are you going?”
“To handle this.”
“Dad…”
“I promise you something.”
“What?”
“You will not be alone with him again.”
For the first time since I’d entered her room, some of the fear left her face.
After she locked herself safely in the bathroom, I walked downstairs.
The house looked completely normal.
Sunlight poured through the windows.
Coffee sat on the kitchen counter.
The smell of breakfast still lingered in the air.
And sitting comfortably in the living room was Richard.
He looked up and smiled.
“Ready for the big recital?”
I stared at him.
Suddenly, that familiar smile looked different.
Colder.
Calculated.
Dangerous.
Meredith immediately noticed my expression.
“Harrison?”
