There was an elderly woman in my neighborhood everyone avoided.

She was frail, always coughing, and often asking for food or small change for medicine.
Most people crossed the street just to avoid talking to her.
But I used to stop and help her whenever I could.
She always thanked me like I had given her something far bigger than money.
When I heard she had passed away alone, something inside me felt strangely heavy.
A few days later, I was asked to come to her apartment.

What I saw inside didn’t make sense at first.
The apartment was empty, but the walls told a completely different story.
And then I learned who she really was—and why she had chosen me.