My five-year-old granddaughter Lila never calls me—so when her tiny voice whispered,
“Mommy’s pretending not to be scared,”
I knew something was wrong.She said Emma, my daughter, was in the bathroom.
Then the call dropped.I texted,
called—no answer. I panicked. Jumped in the car and sped across town,
heart pounding. The house was dark. Unlocked. Silent.
I rushed in calling their names—nothing.Then I heard a scream.
I burst into the bathroom, breath frozen.