Grandpa would change my daughter’s clothes every day and, when the bath time came, he would always say, “Let me bathe her.” One day I couldn’t take it anymore and I hid a camekara…

Robert knelt in front of her and asked anxiously:

“Has it started again?”

Emily nodded.

Do we tell Mom?

“No,” Robert replied. I have to make sure first.

I couldn’t stand it anymore. I ran out of work and came home twenty minutes later.

As soon as I opened the front door, I heard the water running in the bathroom. I ran down the hall and opened the door.

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Robert was fully dressed by the bathtub. Emily was also wearing all her  clothes; only his feet were submerged in the warm water. Grandfather wore protective gloves and carefully examined the red spots that had appeared on the girl’s legs.

Above the sink was a special pharmacy soap, clean towels and a notebook.

In the notebook, Robert had recorded when each rash appeared, what clothes Emily had worn, and what she had eaten that day.

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