Full Story: For seven years after my daughter died, I sent her husband $40,000 every January to help raise my granddaughter. Then one afternoon, seven-year-old Ava grabbed my sleeve and whispered, “Grandpa, please stop sending Dad money. Follow him one day, and you’ll understand.”

operation.”

A chill passed through the room.

“What operation?”

“To seize Bellmore’s servers before they are erased.”

Calvin looked at his watch.

“When?”

Dad glanced at the clock.

“Forty minutes ago.”

I felt sick.

“Where is Melissa?”

“At Bellmore headquarters.”

I turned toward the door.

Dad grabbed my arm.

“Tom.”

“Let go.”

“She doesn’t need you charging into danger.”

“She’s my daughter.”

“And she has spent seven years preparing for tonight.”

“I spent seven years thinking she was d/e/@/d.”

His grip weakened.

That was the first thing I said that truly reached him.

Dorothy walked toward me.

“I’m coming.”

“No.”

She gave me the look she used during our marriage whenever I said something particularly foolish.

“You lost the right to tell me that seven years ago.”

I almost smiled.

Almost.

Calvin stayed with Leah.

Dad and I left with Dorothy.

Bellmore headquarters stood downtown in a glass