My daughter Emily was only eight years old when I started noticing something strange. Every night, after her bath, she would quietly go to my father’s room.
At first, I didn’t really pay attention to it. My father, George, was seventy-six years old and had come to live with us after my husband died, so that my daughter and I wouldn’t be alone. He adored Emily and often read her stories before she went to sleep.
However, their behavior quickly began to seem unusual to me.
Every evening, around nine o’clock, my father would appear in the hallway and call softly:
— Emily, it’s time.
My daughter would immediately abandon her toys to follow him. As soon as they entered her room, the door would close.
And every time I approached, their conversation stopped.
One evening, I tried to open the door, but it was locked from the inside. I knocked. For several seconds, no one answered.
Finally, my father opened the door a crack, just enough for me to see his face.
« What are you doing in there? » I asked.
— We’re just playing, that’s all.
I tried to look behind him, but he positioned himself in such a way as to block my view of the room. Emily was standing near the desk, hastily hiding something behind her back.
« What are you holding? » I asked him.
She looked at her grandfather, then turned towards me.
— Nothing, Mom.
That night, I couldn’t sleep.
Secrets that are becoming increasingly disturbing
Over the next few days, the situation became even more disturbing. Emily would wait for me to go into the kitchen before quietly knocking on her grandfather’s door. When she entered, my father would sometimes lock the door.
I tried not to jump to conclusions too quickly. My father had raised me with love. He had worked as a teacher all his life and was considered the most caring person in our family.
I wanted to believe there was nothing wrong with what was happening.
But certain details continued to worry me.
One evening, as I was walking down the corridor, I heard my father talking to Emily.
— Don’t tell your mother yet. If she finds out now, the whole surprise will be ruined.
Emily whispered:
— I promise you.
My heart sank.
Another thing had changed: Emily was becoming increasingly quiet after school. Some evenings, she said she was tired and refused to eat dinner.
I also found crumpled sheets of paper covered in corrections in red ink in his schoolbag.
One day, her teacher called me. She explained that Emily had refused to read aloud in front of the whole class. When a student made fun of her, she ran to the toilet and refused to come out for a long time.
