My Family Left Me Alone on a Holiday – Until One Knock Turned the Night Upside Down

I looked at the clock. The food was ready, the table was set, but at this rate, half the chairs would be empty.

I hung up and adjusted the serving spoon in the potatoes.

The sun dipped lower.

Then my phone chimed again.

It was a message from my grandkids:

“Hey, Grandpa.

So sorry, but we’ve got school stuff and plans. We’ll FaceTime later, okay?”

I stared at the table I’d laid with all the decorations Margaret always used; the dishes I’d laid out, ready to eat, and the empty chairs. Unshed tears burned my eyes.

A small laugh slipped out, shaky and hollow.

I grabbed a dish towel to start clearing the table.

Then, someone knocked on my door. It wasn’t a polite, neighborly knock either.

This was a harsh and authoritative rat-tat-tat.

The police were on my doorstep, and they looked like they meant business.

One of them stepped forward.

“There must be some kind of misunderstanding—”

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