"She was reported dead several years ago," Leo began, his voice measured, but Nicole could sense the storm of emotions beneath his calm facade.
His words were like a blow to her heart. She didn't move her gaze from him as he continued. "She was my mother," he said, his voice growing softer, as if saying it out loud made it even more unbearable.
"She had left after a fight with my father, one of those fights to which you don't return, words thrown at each other like daggers cutting so deep they wouldn't heal. She stormed out that evening, and that was the last time we saw her alive."
Nicole's brow furrowed. She remembered his earlier claim that his grandmother's dementia had only recently set in. But this? This loss had happened years ago. The timeline didn't add up.
She didn't voice her confusion, though; thankfully, she didn't have to.
Leo seemed to sense her unspoken question and explained further, his tone heavy with the weight of past grief.
"My grandma brought my sister and me up after my dad left; well, he couldn't hack it, I suppose, loss aversion. He did stay with us for two days after the accident, then just packed up and walked out of our lives. My grandmother didn't really have the time to grieve because she had to be our rock, keep us stable. But it's like,. that grief has been slowly eating at her ever since, and now."
He trailed off, leaving an uncomfortable thickness in the silence that weighed heavily on Nicole's chest. She didn't know what to say; unsure if anything she could offer would matter in the face of such loss.
For a moment, Leo stared at the ground to collect himself before he again looked at her, his mouth curving in a weak smile that did not reach his eyes.
"The doctor thinks her dementia might be tied to all that unresolved pain. She's been slipping more and more these past few years, forgetting faces, names, but now it's like she's stuck on this one memory. She keeps calling out for Jennifer, like she thinks if she sees her, everything will make sense again."
Nicole had gone silent, absorbing his every word into the weight of his pain-it could almost be felt, outstretched and wrapping its holds around her.
But with another word, he spoke yet again, and the string of his next words made her gut quiver.
"The doctor intimated that since she's fixated with this 'Jennifer,' the more frequent exposure to you could benefit her."
Nicole was caught blinking, taken aback. "What?"
Leo raised his hands quickly, as if to ward off her immediate objections. "Look, I know how it sounds. I'm sorry for intruding on your private time, but. you saw her yesterday. You saw how vulnerable she was. She won't eat. She won't rest. She just keeps asking for you. And honestly, I don't know what else to do."
Her heart was racing as his words sank in.
The desperation in his voice was clear, and she could see it in his eyes, too, the same look she'd seen in countless others over the years, people begging for help, for someone to save them from their pain.
Leo stepped closer, his face softening. "I know you don't have anywhere to stay right now. Why don't you come stay with us? Just for a little while. My grandma can spend time with you, and maybe... maybe it'll help her."
Nicole's mouth opened to respond, but no words came. She was too shocked, too overwhelmed.
"I am not asking you to do it for free," he added in a rush. "Just two months, and I'll make it worth your while: one million dollars and an apartment in whatever country you want. All I am asking is that you be there for her."
The offer hung in the air, obscenely generous, surreal.
A million dollars, an apartment; it was the kind of thing that could change her life completely, pull her out of the mess she'd been drowning in for so long.
It was not only about the money. Nicole's mind raced back to the old woman, the frail form clinging to her the night before as she whispered that name, Jennifer, tears streaming down her face.
The vulnerability of that moment had lingered within her, haunting her like a ghost.
As her own memories crept in, her chest constricted. All those times when people had told her she had a heart of gold, an almost unearthly kindness, came to mind. "An angel," they used to call her.
Where did that get her? All of those times she tried to help someone, all those times she opened her heart, it was used against her. People took advantage of her and twisted it into something for their own self-serving reasons.
Was this, again, a trap? Yet another way for someone to use her?
And yet, the desperation in Leo's voice pulled at her heartstrings, refusing to be ignored. He wasn't doing this for himself; that much was clear.
He loved his grandmother deeply, and he was willing to do anything, anything to help her.
Nicole let out a conflicted sigh. She didn't have a family anymore, and she didn't have a home.
Maybe this was the way fate was giving her another chance to start over, find some purpose in the mess her life had become.
What felt like an eternity later, she nodded. "Okay," she said quietly.
Relief washed over Leo's face, a smile breaking through the tension that had gripped him since their conversation began. "Thank you," he said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. "You don't know what this means to me... to our family."
Nicole forced a small smile in return, but her chest was still heavy with doubt.
She couldn't get rid of the feeling that she was walking into something much bigger than she had ever realized, and maybe it would come back to haunt her.
As they were preparing to leave, Leo moved a bit closer to her, his presence sending a shiver down her spine.
She looked up at him, suddenly aware of just how tall he was, the way his presence seemed to fill the small space around them.
He smiled down at her then, the hint of playfulness returning to his face. "By the way," he said, "I guess I should officially introduce myself."
Nicole raised an eyebrow, unsure where this was going.
"My name," he said, his tone light but firm, "is Leonard Abrams."
Nicole's eyes widened, the name hitting her like a bolt of lightn
ing. She took a step back instinctively.