“I know you don’t want to hear this now. I understand you need to grieve.” Dorthy sounded compassionate. “But your dad told me that if the day should ever come, to remind you of your son and that you are responsible for the legacy now.”
	The woman teared up and turned back to Dorthy, “I know you mean well, but I just, I can’t. It’s too soon.” She then turned to the man, “I can’t, I can’t do this. I can’t even look at that key.”
	“I’ll keep the key if you want, just leave it there.” Dorthy offered.
	The woman leaned back over and hugged Dorthy, “You were one of his best friends here. He loved all the time you spent together.” she pulled back. “And I know your right, and I should be focusing on Ethan. I can barely take care of myself, and I know what Dad would say. ‘Missy, stop making this all about you.’, but I matter too.”
	The man walked over and put his arm around Missy, “Don’t worry we’re starting therapy next week. I booked Dr. Caden at Family Grief Assistance, he’s highly recommended.” he pushed the elevator button, and corralled Ethan.
	Dorthy smiled in approval, “Good. Good to hear it. Don’t worry about the key, I’ll keep it safe.”
	The small family entered the elevator, the doors closed, and the hallway was silent and deserted.
	“Let’s go in and check the place out.” Dorthy insisted.
	Mrs. Izato turned the key and opened the door. “Don’t touch anything. We’re here only to observe.” She looked inside his room, at the living area and quickly realized her wheelchair was not going to be the best choice. “Go get my walker. I’ll use that instead to investigate. You then can take my wheelchair back to the room and wait for me to txt you to come get me. We can’t have my empty wheelchair hanging about in the hallway. We don’t want anyone to know what we’re doing.”
	I brought her the rollator and held the door open for her to go in. “I’ll just tell anyone who drops by you’re sleeping.”
	“Excellent idea.”, Dorthy watched the door close.
	I drew in a deep breath and wheeled the chair back to the room. I sat in the living room, and glanced at some of her trinkets and things from her travels with her husband. I wondered if sometime she might tell me about them, about the trip she took. The feelings she had, how old she was. I daydreamed about it for probably about ten minutes when I heard a faint knock on the door.
	I walked over and looked out the peephole. A young woman stood outside with a housekeeping cart. Her name tag read “Sarina”. “Hold on a minute.” I said to the woman on the other side of the door, then quickly went into the bedroom and txted Mrs. Izato, “The house keeper is here!”
	“Buy me some time. Tell her I want a good deep clean, and that you are there to make sure she dusts every little thing on that room. And to be careful! Take my sheets off the bed pour some water on them. Make it look like I had an accident over night. We’re only allowed two sets of everything, so she will be forced to go take it to the laundry after she’s finished. DO NOT let her go into my bedroom.” Dorthy texted back.