Cassandra lived in her ancestral home, which was situated in a quiet neighborhood. Her next-door neighbors were four elderly siblings who were in their 80s.

Realizing they needed assistance, Cassandra offered to help them every time she got home from her hospital shifts. The four sisters appreciated this and genuinely enjoyed Cassandra’s company.

You are heaven-sent, Cassandra,” Marie, the eldest of the sisters, once told their neighbor. “Will you at least allow us to pay you for your help?” she asked.

Although Cassandra needed money, she shook her head. “Oh, no, Marie. I will not allow you to pay me! I do this because I care for you, not because I want any money in return. Really, don’t worry about it,” she replied.

Unfortunately, as time passed, the inevitable began to happen. When the last of the sisters passed, the lawyer revealed that Cassandra needed to visit her office that same week because there was something she had to discuss with her.

The four sisters’ children also began contacting Attorney Abigail to arrange the will reading. However, before they could do that, Attorney Abigail said that each child would receive a letter in the mail from their mothers. Each letter contained the same message…

“My darling child, please understand this decision comes from love, not spite. You have your life, your homes, and your families. But the woman next door—the one who cared for us when no one else did—deserves more than our gratitude. She deserves this home. I hope you find peace in that.”

Cassandra sat stiffly in Attorney Abigail’s office, wringing her hands together. Her old sneakers were wet from the rain outside, and her scrubs still smelled faintly like antiseptic.

Abigail smiled gently. “Yes. All four sisters put it in writing. They each agreed that their family home—the one they were all raised in, and later moved back into together—should be left to you. They left detailed letters and had everything notarized well before the first one passed. This wasn’t an impulsive decision.”

Cassandra blinked. “But… they had children. Grandchildren even. Why would they give me their house?”

The lawyer leaned forward. “Because, Cassandra… you were there. You were present. Every week. Every day, really. You checked on them, you made sure they had groceries, you took Marie to her appointments when no one else showed. You didn’t do it for recognition. And certainly not for money. But they noticed. And they wanted to say thank you.”

It took Cassandra a full minute to speak. He