On Valentine’s Day, I Performed CPR on a Homeless Man – the Next Day, a Limo Arrived at My House with My Name on It

“Agreed.”

“I’m not trapped somewhere I can’t leave.”

“Agreed.”

“Written contract,” I said. “Reviewed by someone who isn’t your lawyer.”

“If anything feels weird, I’m out.”

“Agreed.”

“And I need a job title that doesn’t sound like a cult.”

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He laughed once. “Fair.”

I exhaled. “I’ll ride with you. I’ll see the place. If anything feels weird, I’m out.”

“This is Briar. She saved my life.”

The estate was big, old, and cared for.

A groundskeeper met us out front, relief washing over his face when he saw Murray.

“This is Briar,” Murray told him. “She saved my life.”

The man’s eyes widened at me. “You’re the one.”

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“Yep,” I said.

***

Over the next few weeks, I became Murray’s boundary. I sat in meetings and watched people’s faces.

I arranged for my things to be picked up. You don’t need to be there.

When someone pushed papers at him and called it “urgent,” I asked, “Why is it urgent? Who benefits from speed?”

The guy’s smile faltered.

Murray looked at him. “Yeah. Why is it urgent?”

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Meanwhile, Jace texted like he was doing me a favor.

I arranged for my things to be picked up. You don’t need to be there.

When he showed up with a friend, I had a printed inventory.