At that exact moment, we heard Dad walking downstairs.
Grandpa immediately stepped away from me.
Dad entered the room.
He looked at Grandpa.
Then at me.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I said.
But Dad clearly didn’t believe me.
And for the first time in my life, I remembered every warning he had ever given me.
Be careful around Grandpa.
Stop sitting on his lap.
One day you’ll understand.
That night, I finally learned why.
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I waited until Grandpa left before telling Dad.
“He asked me to sleep beside him tonight.”
Dad went completely still.
For several seconds he didn’t speak.
Then he asked:
“Those exact words?”
“Yes.”
“And did he tell you not to tell me?”
My silence was enough.
Dad closed his eyes.
“George…”
I had almost never heard him call Grandpa by his first name.
“What is happening?” I demanded.
Dad grabbed his car keys.
“You’re not going there alone.”
“Then there IS something wrong!”
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.
I stopped.
Inside were two separate narrow beds.
A large telescope stood beside the window.
On a wooden table were dozens of old photographs, letters, a video camera, and a thick photo album.
There was also a small suitcase.
