“So we don’t miss her pharmacy runs when her muscle relaxants run low.”

“Thank you, Ethan,” I said.

He smiled, a quiet, genuine smile that softened the tired lines around his eyes.

He walked into the kitchen to check the lock on the back door and turn off the overhead light.

I stood in front of the stainless steel refrigerator in the quiet darkness of the kitchen.

The yellow light from the microwave display fell across the care chart pinned under the blue magnet.

Every single square for the week was filled in with clear, bold handwriting.