I blinked.
Then I read it again.
It felt wrong, but after staring at that medical bill, I clicked “Apply.”
***
A week later, my phone rang.
“Taylor?” a woman asked.
“Yes.”
“This is Margaret. You applied for the companion position. I want to meet you.”
Two days later, I drove to a large house in a quiet neighborhood.
Margaret answered the door, looking polished, calm, and impossible to read.
She led me into a study.
After we sat down, she got straight to the point.
“My father is Walter. He’s 82. He lost his sight after several strokes. His hearing isn’t what it used to be either.”
Margaret slid a folder across the desk.
