Posted by: Bridgett.
Ann reached down to run a hand over her grandson’s hair. “I can’t play right now,” she said. “I’m making lunch. Why don’t you go read a book or something?”
The two-year-old scurried off to the next room. The wicker seat of one of the chairs crackled, and Ann pictured her grandson snuggling in with his favorite book, the one with the fuzzy bear on the cover. A few minutes later, his voice filtered to her over the sounds of cooking.
Who was he talking to? He hadn’t called for her, he didn’t have any toys in there, and nobody else was in that room. Ann turned off the stove and peaked through the doorway. She froze where she stood, as she watched her grandson carry on a casual conversation with someone she could neither see nor hear. Continue reading