After losing my husband, living alone at 71 felt unbearable. The only light left in my life was my grandson, Timmy. But everything changed when my daughter-in-law suddenly cut me off from him, leaving me heartbroken.

One day, when I tried to visit, she shouted, “You’re not welcome. Timmy doesn’t want you either.” Crushed, I turned to leave—until I heard Timmy’s voice. From his window, he tossed down a paper airplane. It read: “Grandma, help me. I’m not safe. Don’t tell Mom and Dad.”

That night, I returned, slipping through the broken gate my husband once tried to fix. Timmy told me his parents fought constantly, and strange men visited often. He was scared.

I turned to Billy, a retired cop and friend of my late husband. His contacts confirmed my worst fears: drug crimes, domestic violence, and dangerous people.

I called social services. They investigated, removed Timmy, and granted me temporary custody. His parents were later imprisoned.

Raising a child at my age isn’t easy—but Timmy gave me purpose again. Now, it’s my turn to give him safety and love.