An elderly woman asked me to marry her as her dying wish. After she passed away, her lawyer placed the old hospital bag she had guarded for years into my hands and said, “She picked you for a reason.”
PART 1 Two years ago, I was thirty-four and working as an orderly at a small nursing home when I first met Hazel. She was eighty-two, sharp-tongued, stubborn, and somehow had a way of making every room feel warmer. Most residents had children, grandchildren, or relatives who came to visit. Hazel had no one. Little…