“Megan, come downstairs with me,” he said firmly. He turned to Grace. “Stay with Lily.”
As he left the room, he heard Grace saying, “Want to hear about the little birds I saw in the garden?” Lily’s cheerful answer followed him down the hallway—and stirred questions he couldn’t shake.
The next morning, Ethan did something he rarely did: he stayed home to work.
From his study, he saw Grace on the balcony guiding Lily’s hands over the herb pots.
“Feel this leaf. Smooth, right? Now smell it. That’s basil.”
Lily laughed. “Like the basil Grandma Helen planted at the lake house!”
The memory hit Ethan hard. His late first wife’s mother. How did Grace know that detail?
At lunch, he watched them again. Grace cut Lily’s food into neat pieces and described each dish so she could picture it. It was then Ethan finally asked:
“Grace, how do you know so much about teaching blind children?”
She hesitated. “My younger sister is blind. I grew up learning what helped her—how to protect her while still helping her be independent.”
“And where is she now?” Lily asked.
“In Denver,” Grace said proudly. “She teaches piano. She always says being blind isn’t who she is—it’s just one part of her.”