Caleb had always known he was adopted, but he had never believed that made him less of a grandson. He had joined our family after a difficult childhood, and we had tried to give him the belonging he had been denied for so long. Everyone seemed to accept him—everyone except Grandma. She made little comments that relatives dismissed as old-fashioned opinions, and whenever Caleb received something special, she found a reason to remind us that some things should stay within the “bloodline.” I hated hearing it, but most of us stayed quiet because challenging Grandma always turned family gatherings into battles.
Hazel was quieter than the rest of us, so Grandma apparently assumed she was safe to confide in. She told Hazel things she never dared say openly, and Hazel carried those words silently for months. Then, during one family gathering, while everyone sat around the table, Hazel reached into her bag and placed her phone beside her plate. She looked at Caleb, took his hand, and pressed play.
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