I was paid to pretend to be a blind veteran’s granddaughter every Sunday—until his final wish after his death changed my life forever.

Not because I was supposed to. Because I trusted him.

“He’s having a rough week,” I admitted.

Walter nodded.

Then he squeezed my hand.

“He’s lucky to have you.”

Those five words nearly made me cry.

As time passed, I began visiting even when I wasn’t being paid.

Sometimes I brought him homemade cookies.

Sometimes we sat on the porch for hours.

Sometimes we simply continue reading …