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Years passed. Life there was quiet but kind. Then I received unexpected news: a cousin I barely knew had left me a large inheritance. I knew Todd would return—and he did, asking for “his share,” using the same surgery lie.
With a lawyer’s help, I made my terms clear. I gave Todd $50 in small bills. Written across them was my message: if he wanted the inheritance, he had to work one full year as a caregiver in the nursing home—feeding residents, cleaning rooms, listening to their stories. If he refused, the money would go to the home instead.
Angry at first, he left. Then he came back and agreed.
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