Everyone looked worried. When Grandma opened the door, I could barely hold back my tears.
She was wearing her best black dress with tiny white flowers. Her hair had been carefully styled, and on her feet were the red
shoes she saved only for special occasions. Her eyes were red. It was obvious that she had been crying. I wrapped my arms
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around her.
“Why did you frighten us like this? What did the doctor say?”
Grandma simply patted my hand.
“I’ll explain everything when the time is right.”
Inside, the large table had already been prepared. She had cooked all our favorite childhood dishes—roast chicken, potatoes,
her famous apple pie, and the soup whose recipe she had never shared with anyone. But then I noticed something strange.
There were two chairs at the head of the table.
One was for Grandma. The other was empty.
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