Later that night, I head to Grandma's. Dad wasn't home when I left, so I didn't have to create an excuse as to where I was going. I touch my bag, one of the articles from the study laying inside. Taking a deep breath, I arrive at Grandma's and knock on the door.

A minute later, the door opens and I see Grandma, a smile on her face. "My girl!" She squeals, grabbing me in a hug. I hug her back, my nerves disappearing instantly.

"Come in, come in," she says, ushering me inside. Walking inside, I take off my coat, placing it on the coatrack. She leads me to the living room and I take a seat next to her.

Her smile fades as she gets a better look at me. "Is everything okay, dear?" She asks. My hands shake as my nerves return and I pull the article out of my bag, handing it to her. A few tears leak down my face and I hastily brush them away. Her face pales slightly as she scans the article.

A few minutes later, she looks up at me. "Where did you get this?" She asks, her voice shaking.

"I found them in Dad's study."

Grandma looks back at the article, her face ashen. "He should have kept this locked away," she mumbles.

Rage fills my body. "He's the one who wouldn't tell me the truth," I say, my voice rising with every word. "All these years, whenever I ask about Mom, he always says, 'When you're older,'" I say, my voice breaking. "I'm 18. I think that qualifies as 'older.'"

Grandma looks up at me, tears in her eyes. "Honey, it was for your own good. Your dad did that to protect you. All the stuff he's done, it's been to protect you."

I shake my head. "How has he been protecting me? By not telling me anything about Mom?"

She starts to speak, but I shake my head. "I have to go. It was great to see you, Grandma." I pack up the articles and hug her before leaving. As soon as I've left her house far behind, the tears start flowing.

Visions of Mom float through my head, as they often do when I'm stressed or upset. Mostly, I think about what she would've done in this situation. How would she have handled this? I know that her and Dad's family didn't get along when they first met.

By the time I get home, the tears have dried, leaving streaks on my cheeks. Dad glances at me as I walk up to my room. "Everything okay, Bella?" I nod, exhaustion written on my face.

My head throbs as I walk to my room. The tears begin anew when I get to my room. All I can think about is the articles. Who knows how long he's kept this from me? Later that night, I lay awake for hours, my mind racing. What does all this mean? I finally drift off to sleep hours later.

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