“Grandma, we need to leave now.”
My grandson, Tyler, clutched my arm with urgency at what I believed was a simple family birthday dinner. His eyes brimmed with alarm, and he nearly dragged me toward the exit. I was baffled.
The evening had seemed delightful—delicious food, fine wine, engaging conversation. Why was he so intent on getting me out?
“Please,” he murmured, voice low but tense. “Trust me.
Something’s wrong.”
I had never seen him like this. In two decades, Tyler had never lied to me. So, even as voices called after us, I followed him outside.
What he told me in that parking lot would shift everything. Three days earlier, I’d had a fierce disagreement with my daughter, Julie, and her husband, Brad. They wanted me to fund another one of his ventures, and I had refused.
The exchange turned heated. But I never imagined the lengths they might go to for money. The front door slammed so forcefully it rattled the pictures on my wall.
…The story doesn’t end here, it continues on the next page 👇
