
My son and daughter-in-law went on vacation and left my eight-year-old grandson, who had been mute since birth, with me. When they left, my grandson suddenly looked at me and, for the first time in his life, said something that horrified me đ±đš
Ten minutes ago, everything had seemed completely normal. My son was hurrying to the car with his suitcases, constantly checking his phone. My daughter-in-law stood next to me, neat, collected, and confident. She wore a light coat, her hair perfectly done, and had that same cold expression on her face that always made me uneasy.
I never liked her. She seemed arrogant and mean to me, too harsh, too indifferent. I often caught myself wondering what my son saw in her.
But I always made excuses for her. I thought her character was the result of a difficult life with a special needs child. My grandson hadn’t spoken since childhood, and I believed that constant hospital stays, doctors, and endless diagnoses had simply made her that way.
When the door closed behind them and the car drove away, the apartment suddenly filled with silence. Even breathing became easier. My grandson was in the living room, calmly playing, arranging his figurines in neat rows, as he always did. I sat down at the table, but realized I felt much calmer without my daughter-in-law in the house.
I went to the kitchen to make some tea. I put the kettle on, opened the box of tea bags, and picked up the first one I came across. I brought the mug toward me, and at that moment I heard a voice.
“Grandma, can I have some tea too?”
I froze. The mug shook in my hands, and the tea bag slipped and fell into the water. I slowly turned around. My grandson was standing in the doorway. Straight, calm, without his usual swaying. He clutched his old stuffed elephant to his chestâthe only thing he’d never parted with.
He’d been silent for eight years. Doctors said it was a developmental delay. But I’d long since gotten used to communicating with him through looks, gestures, and patience. And now he looked straight at me and spoke.
My blood ran cold.
“How… how is this possible?” I whispered. “You’ve never said a word.”
He lowered his eyes and quietly, but very clearly, said something that truly terrified me. đ±đš Continued in the first comment đđ
He said he’d always been able to speak. That he’d been able to utter words since childhood. But his mother told him she’d cut out his tongue if he said a word to anyone.
So he kept silent. Because he was afraid. Because he feared her and hated her. He told me she often locked him in his room and didn’t give him food.
Later, I learned the whole truth. My grandson really couldn’t speak for the first three years. And that’s when my daughter-in-law started receiving moneyâfrom the state, from us, from other relatives. Help, allowances, pity.
When he first spoke, she realized she would lose this money. And then she decided to lie to everyone. She intimidated her own child to protect her income.
And at that moment, standing in the kitchen with a mug of tea in my hands, I realized one thing. My grandson was silent not because he couldn’t speak. He was silent because he was forced to.