“Claire, people often foolishly convince themselves that difficult conversations can wait until next month, or next year,” Samantha reminded me gently.

“Your aunt became terminally ill very quickly, as you know.”

I looked down at my hands, remembering that painful time all too well.

It had started with a simple cough that would not clear up, followed by endless specialist appointments, tests, and finally the crushing diagnosis that no one ever wants to hear.

Four short months later, Aunt Madeline was gone.

“Does Rose know that Madeline left the Maple Avenue house to me?” I asked.