Grandfather didn’t answer at first. His weathered hands gently placed the phone back into his bag as though it were the most natural thing in the world. He looked up at me, his face soft but full of something profound. “The past has a way of catching up with us, Mira,” he said, his voice gravelly but sure. “And when it does, you’ll understand why I’ve never needed to explain myself to anyone.”
I felt a knot form in my stomach. The air grew thicker as a sleek black car pulled up to the side of the yard. It wasn’t the kind of car you’d expect at a wedding—no, it was the kind of car that signaled business, serious business.
“Grandfather, what have you done?” My voice was barely a whisper now.
Without answering, he stood, slowly, and for the first time, I saw him as something more than the quiet, humble old man I’d always known. He wasn’t merely my grandfather. He was someone else entirely, someone who commanded respect in a way I couldn’t comprehend.
The car door opened, and out stepped a man dressed in black. He didn’t look like a typical wedding guest. His presence was almost ghostly—elegant, cold, and somehow ominous. He approached my grandfather, who stood there waiting with an outstretched hand.
“Everything is in place,” the man said. “The transfer has been finalized. It’s time.”
