“You’re their grandfather,” he continued. “If they matter that much to you… then you take them.”
Several gasps rippled through the crowd.
Someone muttered, “Dear God…”
An elderly woman quietly began crying again.
I felt rage explode inside me.
Every instinct told me to grab Elliot by the collar and demand he explain how any father could speak about his own daughters that way.
My fists clenched so tightly my nails dug into my palms.
Then I felt something small wrap around my hand.
June.
She looked up at me with frightened eyes.
“Grandpa…”
That single word dissolved my anger into heartbreak.
I squeezed her tiny hand instead.
When I glanced toward the girls again, something unexpected caught my attention.
Nora wasn’t crying.
Not anymore.
She wasn’t begging her father to stay.
She wasn’t asking why.
Instead, she watched Elliot with an expression so calm, so unreadable, that no twelve-year-old should ever have worn it.
Slowly she looked toward Maddie.
Maddie met her eyes.
Neither sister spoke.
A moment later, both of them looked down at June.
The youngest sister nodded almost imperceptibly.
Three silent looks.
Three quiet understandings.
No words.
No tears.
Only certainty.
A chill ran through me.
They knew something.
Something I didn’t.
I knelt beside them.
“Girls,” I whispered, “you’re coming home with me.”
Nora nodded immediately.
“So are we safe now?” June asked softly.
I forced myself to smile despite the ache in my chest.
“You’ll always be safe with Grandpa.”
Behind us, Elliot actually laughed.
Not loudly.
Just enough for everyone nearby to hear.
“Perfect,” he said. “That solves my problem.”
Problem.
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