My Granddaughter Ignored My Handmade Gift—But The Next Day, I Found It In Pieces

I’m doing brunch. Leilani wants to see you.”

I should’ve said no. But something told me to go.

When I arrived, Leilani was waiting outside, holding something behind her back. Her face was sheepish, eyes darting. “I need to explain something,” she said, pulling me inside.

She led me to her room. On the bed was a heap of tangled yarn—the remains of my blanket. “I didn’t throw it away,” she blurted.

“I swear. I—I gave it to Marcus.”

Marcus. Her boyfriend.

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