I stepped closer, lowering my voice.
“When his mother was alive, she would’ve never allowed this. Never.”
Jessica stiffened. “Don’t bring her into this.”
“I will,” I said firmly. “Because she trusted you to protect her child.”
That landed.
Michael’s face changed. The confidence drained out of him.
“He needs structure,” Jessica insisted.
“He needs love,” I replied.
Silence filled the room again.
I walked back to the fireplace. My grandson was sitting on the rug, staring at the flames, still wrapped in my coat.