EMAD
I watch her shoulders stiffen at my tone. I don't care. I have to say this.
"Grandpa is gone."
She blinks. Stares at me for a long time then shakes her head.
"That can't be. He was getting better."
I swallow the lump forming in my throat.
"But he's gone now. Yesterday morning I took you the hospital and was with you for a while. Dad called me at around eight."
She keeps shaking her head. I let her call her mother so that she knows that I'm saying the truth.
By the time she ends the call, tears are running down her face. She looks like a broken doll.
I want to comfort her and need comfort myself. But I don't know how. So, I bend down a little till our faces are at the same height and awkwardly pat her shoulder.
Pat.
Pat.
Pat.
Her eyes lift to my face. And it's the sadness
