die, everything I own becomes yours.”
I stared at her.
“You barely know me.”
“I know enough.”
Maybe I should have walked away.
Maybe any sensible person would have.
But loneliness makes impossible things sound believable sometimes.
And deep down, I think I wanted someone to choose me badly enough that I ignored how strange the offer sounded.
So I shook her hand.
“Deal.”
At first, it was strictly practical.
I drove her places.
Organized her medication.
Fixed broken cabinet hinges.
Changed smoke detector batteries.
And she complained through all
