Cristine's grandmother was seated in the parlor, her frail hands gripping the armrests of her chair. Her dim eyes brightened slightly when she saw Cristine approach, though confusion clouded her expression.
“Cristine, dear,” her grandmother said, her voice wavering. “Where are we going? Why is everyone packing? Andrei should be here to help. Where is he?”
The question struck Cristine like a blow to the chest. Her grandmother’s dementia often made her forget the present, leaving her trapped in fragments of the past. Cristine hesitated, guilt welling up as she struggled to find the right words.
“Andrei will join us soon, Grandma,” she lied gently, forcing a smile. “He’s just… busy with some important matters right now.”
Her grandmother frowned, her gaze scanning the room as if searching
