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“If this is about money…”
“How could you even think that?”
“Because everyone else will.”
“I don’t want your money, Eleanor.”
She studied me for a long moment.
“You’re not getting a cent from me.”
“That’s fine.”
“I know,” she said softly. “That’s why.”
When I told my supervisors about my feelings, they moved me off her care. I understood. But I kept visiting her on my own time, outside my placement hours, right up until the end.
She died in September.
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