“You don’t get to audit my life,” Mark said.

“I’m her grandfather,” I said.

“You’re a guest in her life,” Mark said.

“If you ever question my grief or my care for Emma again, you’ll never see her on Saturdays.”

I stood completely still.

The threat hung in the cold air between us.

He was holding my only grandchild hostage over a simple question about school fees.

Mark reached into his tailored slacks for his car keys and pulled them out with a sharp yank.