My grandson called me in the middle of the night. At that hour, no phone call has ever brought good news. I jolted awake in my silent apartment and reached into the darkness for the phone on the nightstand.
The cold blue light hit my face and dragged me fully into consciousness. On the display was the name Matthew, my grandson, the only one left in my family who still said Grandma with real affection instead of duty. “Matthew?” My voice came out rough with sleep, but dread had already tightened my chest.
“What’s going on?”
His answer broke apart under sobs. “Grandma, I’m at the police station. Vanessa hit me with a metal candle holder.
I’m bleeding above my eyebrow, but she’s telling them I attacked her. Dad believes her.”
For a second I could not breathe. I swung my legs off the bed and my bare feet hit the cold tile.
I sat there in the dark, listening to my grandson cry, his words echoing through my head like gunfire. Vanessa, my son’s wife, the woman who had turned Adrien into a stranger to his own mother, had finally crossed the line I had feared she would cross from the moment she entered our lives. “Calm down, sweetheart,” I said, forcing my voice to steady.
“Which station are you at?”
“In Napa, Grandma. I’m scared. They said if no guardian comes, they’ll send me somewhere else.”
“Don’t say another word,” I cut in, already reaching for the lamp and my clothes.
“I’m coming. Don’t talk to anyone until I get there. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Grandma.”
He hung up.
What happened next changed everything… FULL STORY on the next page.
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