I took a job bathing a paralyzed billionaire because my children were starving and I had no other choice. I told myself it was only work, only a…

“You mean you won’t.”

“Yes.”

I closed my eyes.

Five thousand dollars a week could change my  children’s lives.

It could move us out of that apartment.

Pay medical bills.

Put  food in the refrigerator.

 

Give Emma new shoes.

Give Brandon the inhaler the doctor recommended.

And maybe, just maybe, staying near Christopher would give me answers.

“What time?”

“Four.”

I returned.

Christopher acted as if nothing had happened.

That almost made it worse.

For three days, we barely spoke beyond what was

necessary.

I helped him bathe.

Dress.

Eat.

Transfer to bed.

Stretch his arms.

Manage medication.

And every day, the silver locket remained around his neck.

He never removed it.