“You can’t throw us outside.”
“I gave you 24 hours.”
Marissa suddenly smiled. It was not a kind smile.
“You’re forgetting someone,” she said.
I knew exactly what she meant.
They were about to use Oliver against me, and they believed my love for my grandson would force me to surrender.
But they had misunderstood my love.
I would always protect Oliver. That did not mean I would protect his parents from the consequences of their choices.
Marissa folded her arms and looked at me with sudden confidence.
“You’re forgetting someone,” she said.
Daniel remained beside the table, watching me carefully. They both knew where my weakness was.
Oliver, my grandson, had been the brightest part of my life since the day he was born. I had held him through fevers, attended his school performances, helped him learn to ride a bicycle, and listened patiently whenever he wanted to explain a new game.
They believed I would accept any amount of disrespect to keep him close.
They were wrong.
A few seconds later, small footsteps sounded on the stairs.
Oliver appeared in the hallway wearing blue pajamas and holding his stuffed fox against his chest. His eyes moved from his parents to me.
“Why are you fighting?” he asked.
Marissa immediately turned toward him.
“Your grandmother wants us to leave,” she said. “She doesn’t care where we go.”
“Marissa,” I said sharply.
She stopped.
I walked toward Oliver and knelt until we were at the same height.
“Look at me, sweetheart.”
He tightened his arms around the fox.
“This house will always be a safe place for you,” I told him. “Your room is still your room. You can visit whenever you want, and I will always be your grandmother.”
“Even if Mom and Dad leave?”
“Especially then.”
His expression softened.
“But why do they have to go?”
“Sometimes adults forget that homes need rules,” I explained. “Your parents need their own place and their own responsibilities.”
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” I answered immediately. “You did nothing wrong.”
I brushed his hair away from his forehead.
“This is not because of you.”
Oliver stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my neck. I hugged him tightly.
Behind us, the room was silent.
Daniel and Marissa had expected tears, guilt, and panic. Instead, I had spoken honestly without placing their problems on a child.
When Oliver pulled away, I held his hand and walked with him toward the kitchen.
“9 hours,” I announced.
That night, the house changed.
The upstairs hallway filled with the sound of drawers opening, tape tearing, and boxes scraping across the floor. Daniel and Marissa argued behind their bedroom door.
At first, Daniel insisted that I would change my mind.
“She’ll never actually lock us out,” he said.
Marissa disagreed.
“She canceled your card and took the car. She’s serious.”