The next morning, my phone rang before sunrise. On the other end was her daughter—no smirk this time, only panic. She shouted that something was wrong with the paperwork and demanded I come over. When I arrived, she thrust a stack of documents into my hands, her voice trembling. My mother-in-law had quietly revised her will just days before her injury. The version her daughter flaunted was outdated.

The new one—which no one had known about—left her daughter the house but designated the financial assets for a charitable fund supporting elder care programs. “She would never do this!” her daughter cried, pacing the room. But I remembered the quiet conversations we’d had during her recovery—the ones where she spoke about wanting her life to leave a positive mark, about gratitude, kindness, and giving back.