It was a video call.
A cartoon unicorn appeared on the screen.
I answered.
“Grandma!”
Maya’s face filled the display.
She was holding her tablet so close that I could barely see anything except one eye.
I laughed.
“Sweetheart, could you move the camera back a little?”
She giggled.
Then she began telling me about a book she’d been reading at school.
It involved a girl living in a lighthouse during a terrible storm.
Maya described every character, every adventure, and every surprising twist.
We talked for forty-five minutes.
Then her expression changed.
“Grandma?”
“Yes, honey?”
“Are you mad at us?”
My heart tightened.
“Why would you think that?”
“Because you left before dinner, and you haven’t visited. Mom and Dad keep talking about things when they think I can’t hear.”
I took a breath.
I had promised myself Maya would never be placed in the middle of this disagreement.
