It turned out that Robert's wife had suffered for years from a strange allergic skin condition. Certain fabrics, laundry detergents, and even ordinary soaps caused her to develop painful rashes.
During the last few days, Robert had observed the same symptoms in Emily.
That's why I changed his clothes.
That's why I washed the clothes separately and by hand.
And every time he offered to bathe her, his intention was to use a special product and check if any new spots had appeared on her skin.
"Why didn't you tell me anything?" I shouted, feeling angry and relieved at the same time.
Robert's eyes filled with tears.
"I made a mistake. I wanted to be absolutely sure first. Daniel's mother suffered terribly from this illness. I was afraid you might think I was exaggerating. I asked Emily not to say anything until I got a doctor's appointment. Now I understand how frightening my behavior must have seemed."
That same night we took Emily to the doctor.
Robert was right.
Our daughter was diagnosed with a mild form of the same disease. The doctor said that if we had discovered it later, it could have become much more serious.
When we left the clinic, Emily took her grandfather's hand.
"I knew you were helping me," he said.
I looked at Robert, too embarrassed to speak. He didn't blame me. He just said softly:
"You're his mother. You had every right to be worried. But I should have told you everything from the beginning."
From that day on, there were no more secrets in our house.
But I never deleted the recording from the camera.
I kept it, not because it showed anything terrible, but because in the final scene a frightened grandfather appeared kneeling in front of his granddaughter, whispering to her:
"I couldn't help your grandmother in time, but I won't make the same mistake with you."
