Grandma Was Forgotten
The car came to a halt, jolting me from the whirlwind of thoughts I’d been drowning in. Nurse Emma turned in her seat, offering me a small smile.
“Ready to see her?”
I nodded, a little too eagerly. We both stepped out.
My shoes crunched against the gravel driveway, and I lifted my head to take in the scenery.
The neighborhood was quiet, peaceful—almost too perfect. Flowers bloomed on every porch, ivy curled around painted fences, and the houses looked like they’d been plucked straight out of a children’s book.
I hadn’t been here five minutes, and yet a part of me felt… home.
Emma led me to one of the cottages and pushed the door open. The inside smelled of jasmine, soft and sweet.
Wooden floors creaked underfoot, and the living room was filled with warm-toned furniture and floral curtains that danced in the breeze. But what caught my attention—what broke me—were the photos on the walls.
Me.
Singing on stage. Laughing mid-interview. Wearing that red dress during my first award win.
Everywhere I looked, there I was.
Tears prickled my eyes. I’d spent so long thinking only about myself, about Rick, about survival… not once had I asked how Grandma was.
She had never stopped thinking of me.
Emma quietly disappeared down the hallway. I sank onto the couch, soaking in the silence until I heard her return. She closed the door behind her gently, too gently. Her eyes were shadowed with something I couldn’t read.
My brows furrowed. “Is something wrong?”
She gave me a faint smile. “She’s asleep. But in the meantime, you can freshen up and eat something. I’ll lend you an outfit.”
I nodded, swallowing back the lump in my throat.
She led me to a cozy room and handed me a change of clothes.
I peeled off the worn, stained prison uniform and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I barely recognized the woman staring back.
My body had thinned out, but the noticeable curve of my hips and thighs still lingered. Maybe I owed that to my Afro-Latina roots.
My hair was dry, brittle, and wild—an unruly halo of forgotten care.
I exhaled and stepped into the bathroom. The cold stream of water hit my skin like a rebirth. I scrubbed away the filth, and the memories.
When I stepped out, I wrapped myself in the towel and stared at the sundress Emma had left. I hadn’t worn something this soft in years.
Once dressed, I returned to the living room.
Emma sat on the couch, her posture stiff, fingers tapping against her knee. Her expression was distant, almost pained.
“Nurse Emma?” I called.
She looked up, startled, like I’d pulled her from a nightmare. “Alice,” she breathed. “Sit down.”
A chill passed through me.
“What’s wrong? Hasn’t she woken up?”
Emma hesitated. “Would you prefer to eat first? Or hear the truth?”
The truth. My hunger for food evaporated, replaced by a deeper craving.
“What truth?” My voice was tight. “What do you know?”
She inhaled, then let it out slowly.
“You were framed. But you already suspected that, didn’t you?”
I gave a stiff nod.
She leaned forward. “What you didn’t know is who did it.”
My heart stopped.
“It wasn’t just anyone, Alice. It was Rick… and Yvonne.”
The world tilted. “What?”
Emma’s expression darkened and she nodded.
“While you were locked up, your grandmother’s friend—an old detective—helped dig into your case. There wasn’t enough evidence to convict them, but it was enough to cut your sentence short.”
My throat tightened. “Rick wouldn’t… he couldn’t—”
“There’s more.” She didn’t flinch. “They liquidated your accounts. Emptied everything. Then fled Venice for Greece.”
I couldn’t breathe. “No.”
“Rick’s part of an organized crime syndicate, Alice. His fashion company was just a front. Your arrest? It covered his tracks. And now…”
She paused.
“…He’s married. With a child.”
My stomach dropped. “Married?”
Emma nodded. “To Yvonne.”
A scream built in my chest but never left. Instead, I sat there, frozen, while the pieces of my life were shredded.
I remembered the signs. The closeness. The gaslighting.
‘She’s like my sister.’
‘We’ve always been like this.’
‘You’re being insecure, Alice.’
Every word was a lie. Every moment, a setup.
And they hadn’t just taken my freedom. They took my money. My name. My future.
I stood slowly, fury bleeding into my veins.
“They played the wrong girl,” I seethed, my voice quiet but venomous.
Emma’s eyes widened a little. “Alice…”
I didn’t need her pity.
“I’m going to find them,” I whispered. “And when I do…” I looked her dead in the eyes, “…I’ll make them wish prison was the worst thing that ever happened to anyone.”
“Alice, you need to think with a clear head,” Nurse Emma said gently, but there was steel behind her words.
“Remember, more than fans, you have foes. The world still doesn’t believe you’re innocent. If you act based on emotion, you could end up behind bars again.”
Her words stung more than I wanted to admit.
The world that once screamed my name like a prayer now spat it like a curse.
I swallowed the lump rising in my throat, a bitter taste coating my tongue.
“I know,” I murmured, my voice hoarse. “Can I see my grandma now?”
I saw the flicker of hesitation in her eyes. She stiffened slightly, as though bracing herself—but she nodded.
We both rose in silence. The hallway stretched longer than it should’ve. Each step echoed in my ears like a countdown.
She stopped at a door and opened it slowly, gesturing me inside.
My breath caught.
There she was—my grandma—lying still on the bed, the blanket pulled up to her neck even though the room was warm.
A small laugh escaped my lips.
I stepped closer, tears slipping freely down my cheeks.
“Hey, Granny,” I whispered. “It’s me. I’m out.”
I dropped to my knees beside her, my arms wrapping around her like I had as a child.
“I’m so sorry,” I sobbed. “I should’ve… I should’ve asked about you. I should’ve told them to find you. I was selfish. I thought about Rick, about proving I was innocent, but not once did I check if you were okay….”
I tightened my arms around her frail body.
That’s when I noticed it. She didn’t stir, not even a flinch.
I pulled back slightly, confusion tugging at me.
“Granny?”
Her lips were slightly parted, her expression calm.
My stomach dropped.
I reached forward, fingers trembling, and pressed them just under her nose.
Nothing. No warmth. No breath.
I yanked my hand away like I’d touched fire. My heart began to race.
My eyes darted to her chest—no rise, no fall. I leaned in, pressing my ear against her chest, praying for a heartbeat, a murmur—anything.
But the silence was deafening.
My limbs turned to ice.
She’s…
No. No, no, no.
I stumbled back, breath hitching, legs giving out as I sank to the floor.
“She’s…” The word cracked out of me. “She’s not…”
Emma knelt beside me, her eyes glassy.
“I’m sorry, Alice,” she said, her voice shaking. “She passed away last night in her sleep.”
I once thought being in prison was the worst thing that could ever happen to me. But it wasn’t.
Life is nothing if not cruelly ironic. At one point, I prayed for freedom, for answers… but now, I almost wish I’d stayed locked up, untouched by truth.
Because this truth, this loss, hurts more than steel bars ever did.
There were no words for the ache in my chest as they laid my grandmother to rest.
The money for her funeral came from a hidden savings account—one Rick never knew about.
It was a miracle the bank even released the funds after all the scandal and disgrace tied to my name, but somehow, they did. And I gave her the kind of goodbye she deserved.
“I’ll miss you, Grandma,” I whispered through trembling lips. “And I promise—I won’t stop until I get justice. For me. For you. For us.”
A gentle hand settled on my shoulder. I didn’t need to look. Emma was the only one beside me. The only one who stayed.
“This is what she wanted, Alice,” she said softly. “For you to be free—and to be here when she passed. She didn’t think she’d ever see you again. But her final wishes came true. Now it’s your turn to fulfill the last one… get your voice and your stage back.”
I nodded, but my chest tightened. That part was going to take time.
There was still no concrete evidence to prove my innocence.
No one willing to stand up and say, “She was framed.” And the world hadn’t forgiven me. Not yet.
People still recognize me on the streets; they stare, they whisper.
Some spit out cruel words under their breath, and a few shop owners even refuse to sell to me.
Rick and Yvonne didn’t just destroy my career. They poisoned my name and identity.
So, for now, I will live in the shadows until I have gotten my power.
They are going to pay.
My grandma’s illness could’ve been treated. She could’ve survived. All she needed was care and medication. I had the money, but it was frozen—and Rick was listed as my next of kin.
He ignored every message Emma sent. He let her suffer while he played house with Yvonne.
And Grandma… She used everything she had left—every cent—to fight for my release instead of her health.
Tears streamed down my face as I stared at the freshly covered grave.
I stared at the name etched in stone.
Grace Rodriguez.
“So, what will you do now, Alice?” Emma asked, her voice gentle.
I was quiet for a while. The breeze danced over the grave, carrying the scent of wilted roses. The sun was starting to fall behind the trees.
“I want to move to Milan,” I said quietly.
“Somewhere far from Venice. Somewhere I can start over. If I had the money, I’d go back to my hometown, but… that’s not possible right now. Maybe a quiet village. Somewhere small. Hidden.”
She nodded, then reached for my wrist.
“I promised Grace I’d be there for you, and I meant it. If you ever need help—anything—you ask. And for the record, I was a big fan of your music. Still am. Your Stardust Serenade album? It got me through hard days.”
A small smile crept onto my lips, and a part of me stirred—something I hadn’t felt in years. A flicker of pride.
Despite the hate, somewhere in the corners of the world, I still had loyalists—people who remembered, who still found the essence of my voice worth streaming.
“Thank you,” I murmured, emotion thick in my throat.
I stayed by her grave for a long time, unwilling to let go, until the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of gold and ash.
Emma stayed with me, never saying a word, just being there.
The walk back was quiet, heavy with shared sorrow.
But as my steps carried me farther from the past, I made myself a promise:
I won’t grieve forever.
I’ll rise again. But first—I need to rebuild. To start my life over from scratch.
In silence. In shadows.