live under her roof?

I wanted an explanation.

**The Truth About Alex**

After Dorothy had been made comfortable, I decided to ask her directly.

“Dorothy, what’s really going on?”

Her gaze dropped toward the floor.

She released a long sigh.

“The messages were from Alex.”

I turned toward him immediately.

“You wrote them?”

He gave a small nod.

“But Dorothy asked me to.”

His answer caught me off guard.

Dorothy admitted she’d recently been dealing with personal health problems.

She preferred not to explain the specifics because the situation embarrassed her.

She hated the thought of me witnessing her difficulties or continually taking care of tasks she once managed independently.

More than anything, she feared becoming someone whose entire existence revolved around receiving assistance instead of offering it.

“I didn’t want you to worry about me,” she said.

“But you made me worry more.”

A sorrowful smile crossed her face.