And Olivia stepped in.
She memorized Leonard’s medication schedule and managed it carefully, understanding that one mistake could mean unnecessary pain for him. She helped him when he was too weak to stand, handling the most personal tasks with quiet dignity so he never felt embarrassed.
During long nights when the medication blurred Leonard’s thoughts and memories, she sat beside him patiently. Sometimes he spoke to her thinking she was someone from his past, and she simply listened.
When fear crept in during the early hours before sunrise—the kind of fear people feel when they know their life is nearing its end—Olivia held his hand and talked him through it.
Brandon visited occasionally.
He would arrive in expensive clothes, pat his father’s shoulder, and casually ask whether Leonard had mentioned anything about the will lately.
Olivia told herself it was grief.
Later, she realized it wasn’t.
When Leonard passed away, Olivia lost someone who had truly become family to her.
Brandon, standing beside her at the moment his father died, looked almost relieved.