Chapter 12 - A Quiet Evening
That evening, after dinner, Grace and I sat together on the living room rug.
She was working on a detailed sketch of the Andromeda galaxy using colored pencils, while I sat nearby with my laptop.
"Mom?" Grace asked softly, not looking up from her drawing.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Grandpa sent a letter, didn't he?"
I paused, surprised. "How did you know?"
Grace stopped coloring and looked over at the dining room table where the folded letter lay beside my coffee mug. "I saw the handwriting. It looks like the old birthday cards he used to send me before everything changed."
I scooted closer to her on the rug, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Yes, he did, honey."
"What did it say?"
"He apologized," I said gently. "He admitted he was wrong about everything, and he told me he’s fixing the legal papers so you and I never have to worry about our security again."
Grace was quiet for a long moment, processing the information. She looked down at her hands, then over at her wheelchair resting by the wall, and finally back at me.
"Do you think we’ll ever see them again?" she asked, her voice carrying a trace of lingering hesitation.
"Only when—and if—you feel ready, Grace," I said firmly, kissing the top of her head. "Nobody will ever force you into a room where you aren't respected, and nobody will ever make you feel small again. That is my promise to you."
May you like
Grace smiled—a bright, radiant smile that reached all the way to her eyes. She leaned her head against my shoulder. "Okay, Mom. I think I'd like to take my time."
"All the time in the world, sweetheart," I whispered.
