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“Robert? Maria? Thomas? Your nanna is here.”
But there was no response. She looked for toys in the living room, but they were all neatly in the box. No one had been playing with them.
Mrs. Johnson turned on him, her eyes blazing. "You've done something to Rachel. I just know you have. I always knew you were bad for her," she shouted. "And now the children are gone too? I demand to know… where are my grandchildren?"
John shook his head and said nothing.
Mrs. Johnson's face was red with anger. "I demand to see my grandchildren," she said again, her voice unsteady.
John took a deep breath and steeled himself.
"I'm sorry," he said. "But you can't."
Mrs. Johnson took a step forward, invading his personal space. "What do you mean I can't? They're my grandchildren, darn it!"
John backed away, feeling cornered. "I mean that they're not here, Madeline. They're not in the house."
Mrs. Johnson's eyes narrowed. "Then where are they?" she said, her voice low and dangerous.
John hesitated, unsure of what to say. He didn't want to tell her where he had taken them out of fear that they might be taken from him in the midst of all this while searching for his wife. But Mrs. Johnson was not going to let this go. She was like a pitbull; once she had her teeth in something, she wouldn't let go.
"They're safe," he said finally. "That’s all you need to know. I've taken them somewhere safe."
Mrs. Johnson's face softened almost imperceptibly. "Safe from what?" she said, her voice quieter now.
John took another deep breath. "Safe from you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Mrs. Johnson recoiled as if struck.
"What on earth are you talking about?" she said, her voice trembling.
Mrs. Johnson's eyes glinted with tears, but they were tears of rage. "How dare you judge me!" she shouted. "You don't know anything about me."
John's voice was steady.
"I know enough," he said. "Enough to know you are not fit to be around your grandchildren."
Mrs. Johnson took a step forward, her fists clenched. "You have no right to keep my grandchildren from me," she said, her voice boiling with anger.
John stood his ground. "I have every right. I am their legal guardian and will do whatever it takes to protect them."
Mrs. Johnson's face was still twisted with anger, but there was something else there, too—fear, maybe. Or perhaps it was just shock. He couldn’t tell.
"You can't do this," she said, her voice trembling. "You can't take my grandchildren away from me."
"I already have," John said.
Mrs. Johnson's breath caught in her throat. "What do you mean?" she said, her voice barely audible.
John took a step forward. "I mean that I don’t want them around you and your toxic environment," he said. “I have had enough.”
Mrs. Johnson's face went white as a sheet. "You don't know what you're talking about.”
John took another step forward. "I know enough," he said, his voice low and threatening. "You're not fit to be around children. Now, please, leave my house."
Mrs. Johnson backed away, her eyes wide with fear. She walked to the door and went out on the porch.
"Please," she said, her voice barely audible as she turned to face him in the doorway. "Please, don't do this."
