Mr. William had just turned seventy. After suffering a mild str0ke that left his limbs weak, his daughter, Anna, decided to hire a caregiver to look after him. The person she selected was Grace, a twenty-year-old girl from a distant rural town—gentle, reserved, and polite.
For six months, Grace cared for Mr. William with steady devotion. Each morning, she helped him sit up, prepared porridge, and made sure he took his medicine. In the afternoons, she accompanied him through the garden, supporting him step by step.
At night, she massaged his feet and spoke softly about her hometown, her voice as calm as the evening breeze. Under her care, Mr. William’s health improved; his smile returned. Neighbors often praised Anna for finding such a thoughtful helper.
But one sweltering June morning, everything changed.
Anna came back from the market and had just set her basket of vegetables on the counter when she spotted Grace at the doorway, pale-faced and trembling, clutching a pregnancy test.
The moment Grace saw her, she broke down in tears. Anna grabbed the stick, gazed at the two clear red lines, and felt her body weaken. Fury rose inside her as she shouted:
“Grace! You’re only twenty, you’ve worked here barely half a year, and now you’re pregnant? Who? Who is the father?”
Grace only cried, refusing to answer. Anna’s thoughts flashed to her father. Mr. William had been recovering well, and he often mentioned Grace at the table. The suspicion chilled her bl00d. Her voice shook as she whispered:
“Don’t tell me… my father? That’s impossible… he’s seventy… no… it can’t be…”
Grace shook her head violently, sobbing harder.
“No, ma’am… not him… please don’t think that way…”
“Then who? If you don’t tell me, I’ll send you back to your hometown right now!”
Grace collapsed onto the floor, covering her face with both hands, her words broken by tears:
“I… I didn’t dare say it. I was afraid you’d be furious, afraid I’d lose this job. But if you must know… I’ll tell the truth…”
Anna’s heart pounded. The girl before her looked so young, so fragile, trembling like a cornered bird. Grace wiped her tears and finally said, her voice barely steady:
“The baby’s father… is your husband.”
Grace quickly continued:
“That time you were away on a three-day business trip… he came home. He’d been drinking. He called me to tidy the room. I… I couldn’t fight him off…”
Anna staggered into a chair. Her husband, David, had grown irritable over the past two years. But never had she imagined he would go so far.
“Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
Grace sobbed harder.
“I was terrified… scared you’d throw me out, scared he’d lash out… I thought of quitting at the end of this month, going back home to have the baby and raise it alone.”
Just then, Mr. William, hearing the commotion, came out with his cane. His voice shook as he asked:
“What’s happening, Anna?”
Anna broke into tears. Grace fell to her knees, bowing her head.
“Sir… I’m so sorry… please forgive me…”
Mr. William looked at them in disbelief, his eyes brimming. Slowly, he placed a trembling hand on Grace’s shoulder and said in a choked voice:
“The child… if he has no father, leave him with me. I’ll take that place. I’ll raise him.”
Grace wept uncontrollably. Anna’s tears splashed onto the cold floor tiles. And her father—an old man with white hair—still opened his arms to a baby who carried no blood tie to him.
Soon after, Anna filed for divorce from David in court.
Grace remained in the house, caring for Mr. William as she prepared for motherhood. Mr. William told his daughter firmly:
“No matter who is guilty, the child is blameless. Let it grow up surrounded by love.”
In the evenings, Grace continued to massage his feet, though now her belly had begun to show. Sometimes, Mr. William would rest his hand on her stomach and whisper:
“Sweet child… I’ll protect you and your mother in your father’s place…”
