My Grandson’s Whispered Confession Exposed An Eight-Year Lie — And A Grandfather’s Quiet War Brought It All Down The doorbell rang at 7:43 p.m., clean and sharp in the calm of Harold Mitchell’s tidy home. He wasn’t expecting anyone. His son, Mark, was out of town; his daughter-in-law, Clara, had mentioned a weekend with friends. Their eight-year-old, Leo, should have been with a sitter. Instead, Leo stood alone on the porch — small shoulders squared, eyes too old for his face. “Leo? Where’s your