“Nice can be mood.”
“Thoughtful takes work.”
The girl wrote that down.
Alicia laughed.
“Homework?”
“Yes.”
“Use your own words.”
“Yours better.”
“Plagiarism.”
Family.
At ninety, Alicia entered hospice.
Home.
Leah.
A few relatives.
No corporate vigil.
Olivia visited once.
Older herself.
They sat.
Olivia said:
“I still remember you saying my name that day.”
Alicia smiled.
“You looked terrified.”
“I was.”
“Why?”
“I thought you were about to fire everyone.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I know now.”
They laughed.
Olivia became serious.
“You changed my career.”
“No.”
“You did.”
“I almost stepped forward and didn’t.”
“You made me think about that for years.”
“That was your choice.”
Olivia nodded.
“Fine.”
“You gave me problem.”
“I did work.”
“Better.”
Alicia liked.
Then Olivia asked:
“Do you regret buying Prestige?”
“No.”
“Even after everything?”
“Yes.”
“Problems are not proof acquisition wrong.”
“Did company become what you wanted?”
Alicia looked toward window.
“No company does.”
“Did it improve?”
“Yes.”
“Enough.”
Olivia cried.
Alicia did not comfort with speech.
Held hand.
The final week, Alicia slept much.
Leah found her awake one night.
“Need anything?”
“Water.”
She drank.
Then:
“Did Dad know?”
Leah paused.
“Know what?”
Alicia’s mind moving backward.
“The stores.”
“Your father?”
“Yes.”
“He knew about Monroe Heritage.”
“Not jewelry.”
“No.”
Alicia smiled faintly.
“He’d hate chandeliers.”
Leah laughed.
“Probably.”
“He’d ask floors clean.”
“Yes.”
Alicia closed eyes.
Then opened.
“Lobby rule.”
“What?”
“Don’t inspect after they know.”
Leah knew story.
“Yes.”
“Still true.”
She slept.
Next morning, great-niece brought small velvet box.
Leah almost objected.
Alicia opened.
Inside simple silver bracelet.
Not expensive.
The girl had bought with allowance? Better she made.