My granddaughter stopped speaking shortly after her father married my late daughter’s best friend. Then she slipped a note beneath her recordable stuffed bear and quietly pleaded with me to listen when her new mom was not nearby. I pressed play outside and nearly sank onto the sidewalk.

I went. Naturally, I went.

I stood at the back of a little chapel and watched Brent place a ring on Paige’s finger, and I watched my granddaughter grip that pink bear with all her strength.

Three weeks after the wedding, I came to Brent’s front porch carrying a warm casserole and a bag of Sadie’s favorite cookies. The door opened before I even knocked. Paige already had her smile ready.

“Gracie! You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” I said. “How’s my girl?”

The moment I stepped inside, the air felt off.

Sadie was sitting on the couch, completely still, Mr. Buttons pressed tightly to her chest. Her eyes rose to meet mine, but her mouth did not open.

“Hi, sweetheart,” I whispered.

She did not answer.

Brent came in from the hallway. “She hasn’t really been talking lately, Gracie. Don’t take it personal.”