The next day passed slowly.
I tried to work, but my attention kept drifting toward the upstairs hallway.
My father acted normally.
He made Emily breakfast.
He helped her find her school shoes.
He even packed a small snack for her lunchbox.
Nothing seemed unusual.
That was the strangest part.
How could everything look so ordinary when I felt so uneasy?
When Emily returned from school, she ran straight into the living room.
"Grandpa!"
My father put down his newspaper.
"There's my girl."
She climbed onto the sofa beside him.
He asked about her day.
She told him about a drawing she had made at school.
He listened carefully.
Then he praised her.
I watched them from the doorway.
I wanted to feel happy.
Instead, I felt guilty for doubting him.
Maybe I was letting fear control my thoughts.
Maybe Emily had misunderstood something.
But then I remembered her face in my bedroom.
The way she had squeezed that stuffed rabbit.
The way she had asked me not to tell Grandpa.
I couldn't simply forget it.
Around seven that evening, I began preparing dinner.
My father walked into the kitchen.
"Would you like me to take care of Emily's bath tonight?"
I turned toward him.
For a moment, I didn't answer.
He looked at me.
"You're busy. I can help."
Normally, I would have thanked him.
That was what we had done for months.
But now the offer made my heart beat faster.
I forced myself to act naturally.
"Sure, Dad. Thank you."
He nodded.
"Emily! Time for your bath."
My daughter came running downstairs.
She was holding her pajamas.
"Okay, Grandpa!"
He took her hand.
Together, they walked upstairs.
I waited until their footsteps disappeared.
Then I turned off the kitchen faucet.
I stood completely still.
A few seconds later, I heard the bathroom door close.
Then came the sound of running water.
I looked at the clock.
7:18 p.m.
I tried to return to dinner.
I picked up a knife.
I started cutting vegetables.
But my mind wasn't in the kitchen.
I kept listening.
The water continued running.
Then I heard my father speak.
"Are you comfortable, sweetheart?"
Emily answered.
"Yes."
I put the knife down.
My heart was beating so loudly that I could almost hear it.
Then my father said something else.
"All right, my little angel. Are you ready?"
Emily replied quietly.
"Yes, Grandpa."
I moved toward the kitchen doorway.
Then I heard him say:
"Close your eyes for me."
I stopped.
The same words.
Exactly the same words Emily had repeated to me.
I wiped my hands on a towel.
Then I walked toward the stairs.
I wasn't planning to interrupt.
I only wanted to understand what was happening.
At the top of the stairs, I could hear the water splashing inside the bathtub.
My father spoke again.
"Keep them closed, sweetheart."
Emily answered.
"I am."
I stood outside the bathroom.
The door was shut.
I could see a small line of light beneath it.
Then there was silence.
A few seconds passed.
I heard my father take a deep breath.
It sounded heavy.
Almost painful.
Then Emily asked:
"Grandpa?"
"Yes, darling?"
"Is it going to hurt again today?"
My entire body went still.
I grabbed the hallway railing.
My father didn't answer immediately.
Then he sighed.
"Just a little, sweetheart."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"But don't be afraid."
I stepped closer to the door.
I wanted to open it.
I wanted to see what was happening.
But before I could move, Emily asked another question.
"Will Mommy find out?"
My heart seemed to stop.
My father answered in a quiet voice.
"No, darling. I don't want your mother to see me like this."
I stared at the door.
What was he hiding?
Why was he making my daughter part of it?
Why was she being told to close her eyes?
I felt anger rising inside me.
I remembered all the mornings I had trusted him to take care of Emily.
All the evenings I had left them alone.
All the times I had thanked him for helping me.
Had I been blind?
I reached toward the doorknob.
Then I heard Emily speak again.
Her voice was trembling.
"Grandpa, please don't do it today."
My fingers stopped.
My father answered.
"We have to finish, sweetheart."
Emily sounded close to tears.
"I'm scared."
I pressed my ear closer to the door.
Then she said something that made the hair on my arms stand up.
"I'm scared you'll fall again."
Fall?
I stepped backward.
My mind suddenly filled with questions.
What did she mean by again?
Had my father fallen during one of these baths?
Had he been injured?
Was he hiding a medical problem?
Before I could think any further, I heard a sudden movement.
Something knocked against the bathroom floor.
Then my father made a strained sound.
Emily cried out.
"Grandpa!"
That was enough.
I grabbed the handle.
I didn't knock.
I didn't wait.
I pushed the door open.
"DAD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY CHILD?"
Emily screamed.
My father turned toward me.
His face was pale.
His hands were shaking.
And what I saw inside that bathroom made my knees feel weak.
I had imagined a hundred terrible possibilities.
But I had not imagined this.
Click here to continue reading: PART 4: I Threw Open the Bathroom Door and Finally Saw Why My Father Had Been Begging My Daughter to Keep Her Eyes Closed
My Little Girl Asked Me to Keep a Secret From Grandpa, But What She Told Me That Night Changed Everything
Part 3 of 20
