She picked up the phone, dialing with trembling hands. After a few rings, a bright but hurried voice answered. “Hi, Grandma! What’s up? I’m busy.”

“Hello, Violet, dear. I won’t keep you long,” Sarah said softly. “I just wanted to ask—how do you like the sweater I gave you? Have you been wearing it?”

There was a pause long enough to unsettle Sarah. “Oh, the sweater? Yeah, of course, Grandma. It’s great. I wear it all the time.”

“Really?” Sarah asked, hope creeping into her voice.

“Yeah, really. Sorry, Grandma, I have to go. Talk later, okay?”

“Of course, dear,” Sarah said quietly, but Violet had already hung up. Lowering the phone, Sarah gazed at the sweater again, tracing the initials with her fingertips, her heart heavy.

The next day, Sarah walked to her son Robert’s house with deliberate steps, a small gift bag swinging gently in her hand. When Robert opened the door, he seemed surprised.

“Mom? Hi! You should’ve called. What’s this?” he asked, gesturing to the bag.

“I won’t stay long,” Sarah said warmly but hesitantly. “I just wanted to drop this off for Violet.”

Robert frowned. “Mom, didn’t you already give her that lovely sweater? You’re spoiling her.”

Sarah’s smile faltered. “I don’t think she liked it…” she admitted quietly. “I found it at the donation drive yesterday.”

Robert’s expression darkened. “What? She donated your gift? That’s unacceptable!”

“Please, don’t make a fuss,” Sarah pleaded, but Robert was already storming inside. “Violet! Come here now!”

“What is it?” Violet’s indifferent voice called from upstairs.

“Now!” Robert bellowed.

Violet appeared, arms crossed. “What’s the problem?”

“Where’s the sweater Grandma gave you?” Robert demanded.

“In my room,” Violet replied with a shrug.

“It’s not there. It was at a donation drive!” Robert snapped.

Violet’s nonchalance cracked for a moment, but she quickly retorted, “It was ugly! I wasn’t going to wear it.”

Robert’s voice rose. “That sweater was made with love! You owe your grandmother an apology!”

Sarah, unnoticed, slipped out the door, leaving the gift bag on the porch. When the argument ended, Violet found the bag. Inside was a soft, store-bought sweater in her favorite color. A note read:

“Dear Violet, I’m sorry the first sweater wasn’t right for you. I hope this one suits you better. Love, Grandma.”

Violet clutched the new sweater, her guilt overwhelming her. Later, she appeared at Sarah’s door, her face full of regret.

“I’m so sorry, Grandma,” Violet said tearfully. “I didn’t appreciate your first gift, but it was beautiful. I’ll cherish it.”

Sarah smiled, retrieving the original sweater from a closet. “I kept it, just in case.” Violet hugged her tightly, the bond between them stronger than ever.