My mother turned.
“Lily, go upstairs.”
I didn’t move.
Grandpa looked at my mother.
“You can’t protect her from everything forever.”
Mom whispered,
“She doesn’t need to know yet.”
Grandpa’s expression softened.
“She needs one good memory.”
My mother’s face crumpled.
“But what if tomorrow…”
Grandpa interrupted gently.
“Don’t talk about tomorrow.”
The house went silent.
I didn’t know what tomorrow meant.
But suddenly, I desperately wanted to know.
Half an hour later, Mom came upstairs.
“Get dressed.”
“Where are we going?”
“To Grandpa’s.”
I stared at her.
“You said I couldn’t go.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Why?”
She looked at me.
“Because sometimes grown-ups make rules when they’re scared.”
That was the strangest answer I’d ever heard.
We drove to Grandpa’s house.
When we arrived, the lights were on in the back porch.
Grandpa opened the door.
“Come in.”
I stepped inside.
Then I stopped.
There were two mattresses on the floor.
