The betrayal had carved a hurt I couldn’t undo.
Jenna stayed too, quieter now, trying to make amends. Some days Grandma welcomed her help. Other days, she asked her to leave the room.
“Will you ever forgive her?” I asked Grandma one afternoon as we folded laundry together.
“I already have,” she said.
“Forgiveness isn’t the hard part. It’s the trust that doesn’t come back so easy.”
I nodded, understanding in a way I hadn’t before.
“Promise me something,” Grandma said, taking my hand. “Don’t let this break you three apart forever.
Family is too precious for that.”
I couldn’t promise. Not yet. But I vowed something else to myself: never to let anyone I loved be locked out again.
Not by lies, not by silence, and not by the ones they trust most.
Some letters can’t be unwritten. But maybe, with time, we could write a new chapter together.
