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When I said yes, she introduced herself as his granddaughter and explained that her grandfather had asked to see me. He wasn’t well, she said gently, and it was important to him. The weight of her words settled quickly, and after a brief pause, I agreed to go.
The house we arrived at was quiet and understated, filled with the soft scent of wood and time. He was resting in a bedroom at the end of a long hallway, smaller than I remembered, but his eyes brightened when he saw me. He thanked me—not just for the groceries, but for seeing him when others had not.
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