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His name was Carlos, and though he was polite and grateful, he carried a guarded sadness I didn’t press him to explain. We watched a holiday movie, shared a few quiet moments, and eventually I showed him to the guest room. That night, as I lay in bed, I heard footsteps near my door and felt a sudden wave of fear.
When I saw him standing there, holding something in his hand, my heart raced—until I realized it was my heart medication. He had noticed I’d forgotten to take it and remembered his grandmother’s routine. Embarrassment replaced fear, and gratitude followed quickly.
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