Alice sat at the dinner table, the warm glow of candles flickering around the room and casting shadows on the walls. Her parents, Lisa and Terry, were smiling and chatting, celebrating her mother’s birthday.

The table was covered in delicious dishes—roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and freshly baked bread.

The smell of the meal filled the air, comforting and familiar, yet Alice couldn’t focus on the joy around her. She sat quietly, picking at her food, her thoughts far away.

As her parents laughed and shared stories, Alice’s mind kept drifting to someone who wasn’t there—her grandfather, Ted.

He had always been a part of family gatherings, and Alice missed him dearly. He would tell her amazing stories about his youth, or spin her around in the air until she felt like she could fly.

Her thoughts wandered back to the last time she had seen her mother and Grandpa Ted together. It was a memory she couldn’t forget—her mother shouting at him, her voice louder and angrier than Alice had ever heard.

Alice had been upstairs in her room, but the argument had echoed through the house.

Grandpa Ted had smelled strange that night, and he’d been acting a little off, stumbling over his words.

Alice didn’t understand why, but her mother had seemed furious, yelling something about “broken promises” and “never again.” After that night, Grandpa Ted had disappeared from their lives.

Alice had kept quiet for a long time, hoping that her mother and Grandpa Ted would make up, and everything would go back to normal.

But now, sitting at the dinner table while everyone else celebrated, she couldn’t hold back her questions any longer.

“Why isn’t Grandpa Ted here?” she asked, her voice soft but clear, cutting through the laughter.

The room went silent. Her parents stopped talking, and the warmth in the air seemed to cool in an instant. Lisa’s face changed, her smile fading as she glanced at Terry, who shifted in his chair, looking uncomfortable.

Lisa cleared her throat, taking a deep breath before answering. “Grandpa Ted isn’t coming, Alice. I don’t think he will for a long time.”

Alice’s heart sank. “Why not?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly. “What did he do?”

Lisa’s eyes hardened, and her voice became cold and firm. “Grandpa Ted made some bad decisions, and we don’t need to see him anymore. It’s better this way.”

Alice’s eyes widened in confusion. “But I miss him. Can’t we visit him? He’s still family.”

Before Lisa could respond, Terry gently placed his hand on hers. “Honey, maybe—”

“No,” Lisa interrupted, her tone sharp. “I don’t want to talk about him, not today.”

The tension in the room was thick, and Alice felt tears welling up in her eyes. She looked down at her plate, trying to hold back her emotions.

She loved her grandfather and couldn’t understand why her mother was so angry. What could he have done that was so terrible?

After a few moments of silence, Alice whispered, “May I be excused?”

Without waiting for an answer, she quietly stood up and left the table, her heart heavy. She made her way to her room, the tears finally spilling over as she closed the door behind her.

Sitting at her desk, Alice wiped the tears from her eyes as the conversation from dinner replayed in her mind.

She couldn’t stop thinking about what her mother had said about Grandpa Ted. He had always been so kind to her, telling her stories and making her laugh.

Why was her mother so angry with him? Alice couldn’t understand it. She knew he had made mistakes, but wasn’t he still family? And now he was sick.

She had overheard her father talking quietly to her mother about how Ted needed money for medication. Could that be why her mother was upset? Maybe she felt that Grandpa Ted didn’t deserve their help after what had happened.

But Alice didn’t feel that way. No matter what Grandpa Ted had done, she still loved him.

She couldn’t bear the thought of him being sick and alone, needing help, and not getting it. Her heart ached for him. She knew she had to do something—anything—to help him.

Her eyes drifted over to the small piggy bank sitting on her shelf. She had been saving money in it for months, dreaming of buying herself a new bicycle.

She had almost enough to get the one she’d wanted for so long, but now, thinking of her grandfather, the bike didn’t seem as important anymore.

Slowly, Alice stood up and walked over to the piggy bank, holding it in her hands. It wasn’t much, but it was all she had.

For a moment, she hesitated. She really wanted that bike. But the image of her grandfather, sick and in need, wouldn’t leave her mind. He needed her more than she needed a bicycle.

With a deep breath, Alice wrapped the piggy bank in a towel, then gently tapped it against the edge of her desk until it broke. The sound of the shattering ceramic seemed louder than she expected, but it didn’t matter.