“Grandpa, but it hurts.”
“I know, sweetheart. Just be patient a little longer.”
I pushed the door open.
My father was standing beside the bed, holding a white towel.
There was a first-aid kit next to him.
“DAD! WHERE IS EMMA?”
He turned around in shock.
“Anna, please, calm down!”
I ran toward the bathroom.
I opened the door.
And I screamed. The continuation read in the comments 👇👇‼️‼️
Emma was sitting on the edge of the bathtub.
Her right foot was resting in a small basin filled with water.
Her foot was red, and the area around her heel was swollen.
“MOMMY!”
She burst into tears.
I wrapped my arms around her.
“What happened to you, sweetheart?”
My father approached us, but I shouted:
“STAY AWAY!”
Emma grabbed my hand.
“Mommy, Grandpa didn’t do anything wrong!”
I looked at her foot.
“Then why does it look like this?”
My father spoke quietly.
“We need to take her to a doctor. I’ve already called for help.”
I immediately called an ambulance.
At the hospital, the doctor examined Emma’s foot.
It turned out that she had injured herself on a sharp seashell at the beach, and the small wound had become infected.
The doctor prescribed treatment and assured me that Emma would make a full recovery.
But one question was still tormenting me.
Why had my father been taking Emma to that hotel for weeks?
When we were finally alone, I asked him:
“Dad, are you going to tell me the truth now?”
He remained silent for a long time.
Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small envelope.
“I wanted to surprise you.”
Inside were several photographs.
The first showed my mother when she was young.
The second showed me at around ten years old.
