I became my grandson’s guardian when he was barely two years old.

He became the rhythm of my days. And I became the center of his.

I truly believed our quiet life would continue that way — just the two of us against the world.

Until the morning everything unraveled.

He was twelve when she came back.

I remember the knock at the door. I remember wiping my hands on a dish towel and opening it, expecting a delivery or a neighbor.

Instead, she stood there in tailored clothes and polished heels, a leather handbag hanging from her shoulder. Beside her was a man in a suit holding a briefcase.