I knew marrying Emily would sever her ties with her family. I wasn’t what they had envisioned. I lacked a notable family background and significant financial status.

“I don’t mind, Lucas,” Emily said. “They think they always know better, but they’re mistaken this time.”

After our wedding, Emily’s parents vanished from her life, only reaching out for birthday wishes via text or sending Christmas cards filled with their pictures.

I often wondered if their absence affected Emily since they were her parents.

“It doesn’t,” she replied once when I asked. “They chose to leave; I didn’t push them away.”

Ten years later, Emily and I had flourished. Our careers were thriving, and we had considerable financial stability. We also had a nine-year-old daughter, Allison.

With my parents living abroad and Emily’s parents absent, Allison relied on us and our close friends.

Until recently.

Catherine abruptly showed up at our doorstep, holding a fruit basket and wine.

“Emily,” she said after I let her in. “I’ve returned!”

Confusion was evident on my wife’s face as she continued chopping vegetables for dinner, listening to her mother.

“I’ve left your father,” Catherine said. “I realized he kept me away from you. I shouldn’t have listened.”

I took over dinner prep, leaving Emily to talk to her mother. Despite everything she’d said over the years, I knew Emily wouldn’t send her mother away. She missed her more than she admitted.

Hours later, Emily and her mother were chatting warmly. Catherine’s enthusiasm for seeing Allison seemed genuine, but I couldn’t ignore a nagging feeling.

“Mom,” Emily suggested to Catherine. “Ali has really taken to you. Maybe you could spend more time with her, take her for ice cream, and perhaps babysit occasionally?”

Catherine’s reaction was surprising.

“Sure, but remember, my time is precious,” she replied smugly.

A few days later, Catherine was set to babysit.

“You both can have a date night,” she said, making herself comfortable in our living room.

We left, feeling content that Allison was with her grandmother.

This happened several times over the next few weeks. I noticed that Allison had become more reserved. When we asked about her time with grandma, she always shook her head and stayed silent.

This was out of character for Allison, who was usually animated and easily excited.

Then, Emily was in Allison’s room, gathering laundry, when she found a crumpled piece of paper.

We had just returned from a hike with friends, and Catherine had been watching Allison.

“Lucas!” Emily yelled.

I rushed upstairs to find Emily examining a drawing while sorting through Allison’s box, where our daughter kept her allowance.

“This can’t be true,” Emily said, showing me the drawing.

According to Allison’s drawing, which depicted Catherine taking her pocket money, the box was nearly empty, with just a few dollars left.

“Do you think she took it?” Emily asked, wide-eyed. “What else would Ali spend her money on?”

“Only one way to find out,” I said.

We hurried downstairs and found Catherine ready to leave, her handbag on her shoulder.

“Open your purse,” I demanded.

“How dare you?” Catherine exclaimed, looking to Emily for support.

“Do it, Catherine,” Emily said.

Reluctantly, Catherine opened her purse, revealing Allison’s pocket money.

“I can explain,” she said.

“You’d better,” Emily replied, her voice cold.

“I needed compensation. I told you that on the first night, but you didn’t listen. So, I took the money from Allison, thinking you left it with her for me,” Catherine explained.

Emily’s jaw dropped.

“You willingly took money from a child? Your own grandchild?” Emily spat.

“Did you know Allison refuses to talk about you? She never mentions what you two do together. Did you tell her to keep quiet?” Emily pressed.

Catherine sighed, looking at the ceiling.

“Yes. I told her not to say anything,” she confessed.

“Leave now,” I declared. “Never come back.”

Catherine looked to Emily desperately, but Emily avoided eye contact.

“You heard Lucas,” Emily said.

Afterward, we reassured Allison that she could tell us the truth about what had happened. She told us how Catherine found her box on the first night she babysat and took her money.

“She told me not to say anything,” Allison mumbled.

Emily and I decided to take our daughter to therapy to ensure her mental well-being after this ordeal.

A few weeks later, Allison was back to her cheerful self. We promised she would never see Catherine again.

What would you have done?