After my mother died, Dad lived alone in our old family home. He was seventy-two years old, but he still did his own shopping, tended the garden, and baked Emily’s favorite apple pie every Sunday.
At first, I was happy that they were so close. However, over the last few months, Emily had started making the same request after every visit.
—Mom, can I stay at Grandpa’s again tonight?
Every time I told her no, she became strangely serious.
—But Grandpa is alone. He needs me to stay with him.
I allowed it several times. My father was someone I trusted completely, and it had never occurred to me that I had any reason to worry.
But Emily’s behavior soon began to change.
