“Every night my grandfather secretly took me to his room… But when my mother found out why he was doing it, she couldn’t stand it and burst into tears.”

Emily sat on her grandfather’s lap, holding the first book she had read completely by herself. I stood next to them and smiled this time.

To this day, Emily goes to her grandfather’s room every night.

But the door is never locked again.

Sometimes I sit next to them and remember the most important lesson my father taught me:

The child does not always ask for help with words. Sometimes their silence is the loudest cry for help.