Something in my body went cold immediately.
“What happened?”
She started crying so quietly it was worse than hearing her sob. If a child sobs, at least the pain is allowed to exist aloud. Whisper-crying is what children do when they already think someone will punish the sound.
“Grandma left me a note,” she said. “She said I have to pack and move downstairs because Mason needs my room and Grandpa said it makes the most sense while you’re gone. I told them I didn’t want to and Grandma said I was being selfish and that if I made a scene you’d be disappointed in me for adding stress when you’re working.”
I remember standing still in the hotel hallway while people with conference badges streamed around me and the whole carpet seemed to tilt.
“Where are you right now?”
“In the pantry.”
“Are they home?”
“Grandpa’s taking Grandma to a doctor appointment. They left like twenty minutes ago. Mom…” Her voice broke. “Am I really supposed to leave my room?”
No child should have to ask that question about a house her mother bought with her own name on the deed.