A dreaded timeline

Tears welled up in Rosemary’s eyes as her story deepened. “I kept going as long as I could. But I grew old, frail — just like him. There were no children to pass it to, no relatives nearby. The farm was all I had left.” Her voice broke. “Eventually I knew I’d have to sell it, but I couldn’t. Letting go meant losing the last piece of him forever.”
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