She was seventy-one, with short silver-gray hair, soft brown eyes, and a habit of wearing knitted cardigans even when the weather was warm. Sophia had always loved her house because it smelled like cinnamon, old books, and the flowers she grew beside the kitchen window.
When she saw us, her smile faded.
She looked at my daughter.
Then at me.
"What happened?"
Sophia ran toward her.
"Grandma!"
The older woman held her carefully.
For a moment, my daughter pressed her face against her grandmother's shoulder.
Then she began crying.
My mother-in-law looked toward me.
Her expression changed.
"Come inside."
We entered the small living room.
I placed the brown box beside a chair.
Sophia sat close to her grandmother while I explained what I'd found.
I began with the laundry room.
Then the missed lunch.
Then the letters.
My mother-in-law listened without interrupting.
But when I described Sophia's fear of telling the truth, her eyes filled.
She looked down at my daughter.
"Sweetheart, has Patricia been making you wash clothes by hand?"
Sophia nodded.
The older woman closed her eyes.
Then she looked toward me.
"How long?"
I swallowed.
"I don't know yet."
Sophia began twisting the edge of her shirt.
My mother-in-law immediately noticed.
She placed a gentle hand over the child's fingers.
"You don't have to answer anything right now."
Sophia looked relieved.
Then the older woman turned toward me.
"We need to take this seriously."
I nodded.
"I know."
Her voice trembled.
"Do you?"
The question hurt.
But I deserved it.
I looked toward the box.
"I didn't. Not before today."
For several seconds, she stared at me.
Then she lowered her eyes.
"I'm sorry."
I shook my head.
"Don't apologize."
She looked toward Sophia.
Her voice softened.
"I've been worried about her."
My stomach tightened.
"What do you mean?"
She hesitated.
Then she said, "Patricia stopped letting me visit as often."
I stared.
"She told me you wanted more privacy as a family."
My throat tightened.
"She told me you were traveling."
I looked toward Sophia.
My mother-in-law continued.
"Whenever I asked to take her somewhere, Patricia said she had too many responsibilities or school activities."
I swallowed.
"I thought she was coordinating everything."
The older woman shook her head.
"She was keeping us apart."
The words hung in the room.
Sophia looked from one adult to the other.
Then she whispered, "Patricia says Grandma makes me sad."
My mother-in-law's expression changed.
"Sweetheart, why would I make you sad?"
Sophia lowered her eyes.
"Because you talk about Mommy."
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then my mother-in-law pulled her close.