Cadie's expression flickered with emotion."I wish I had visited more."
Olivia set her coffee cup down carefully."What will you do with Stratton House?Will you keep it or sell it?"
The question came without preamble.Barrett noticed the shift in Olivia's demeanor, the way her focus sharpened on Cadie's response.
"I haven't decided yet," Cadie said.
Olivia's eyes stayed on Cadie."It's such a valuable property.Your aunt worried so much about what would happen to it.She wanted it to continue serving the community, to remain a place for music and learning."
"That's important to me too," Cadie said.
"But it would be expensive to maintain and restore," Olivia said."The building needs major work.Your aunt couldn't afford the repairs anymore.That's part of why it closed."
Barrett noticed that Olivia was focused on the property, more so than on sharing memories of Celia Ann.
For another twenty minutes, Olivia shared stories about Celia Ann's love of music and her dedication to the conservatory.The anecdotes were touching, painting a picture of a woman who had lived fully and cared deeply about her work.
But when the conversation turned to the will, Olivia's demeanor changed.
"I have to admit that I was hurt when I learned she hadn't mentioned me."Olivia's voice hardened slightly."For four years I cared for her, and I was there every single day, managing her medications, taking her to appointments, making sure she was comfortable and safe."
She caught herself and softened her tone."I'm sorry.That's not fair to you, Cadie.I'm just hurt.I thought she valued what I did, and the friendship that developed."
"I'm sure she appreciated everything you did for her," Cadie said.
Olivia nodded, but tears filled her eyes again.
Barrett shifted the conversation."Can you tell me more specifically about when her decline accelerated?You mentioned about six months ago, but can you narrow that down?"
Olivia shifted in her seat and wrapped her arms around herself."I'm not sure exactly.Maybe four or five months ago?It's hard to remember the specific timeline."
"Did you accompany her to doctor's visits during that period?"Barrett kept his tone casual, just gathering information.
"She had regular appointments.I took her to all of them."But Olivia avoided direct eye contact and fiddled with the tissue in her lap.
Barrett noticed her discomfort at certain questions.
She stood suddenly."I kept some of your aunt's things, a few personal items I thought you might want."
She disappeared into another room and returned with a small cardboard box.Setting it on the coffee table, she lifted out items one by one.There were reading glasses in a case, a purple silk scarf, and a small jewelry box with a few pieces inside—and three prescription medication bottles.
"I kept meaning to dispose of these properly, but I couldn't bring myself to," Olivia said."They're your aunt's heart medication and other prescriptions."
Barrett picked up one of the bottles, turning it to read the pharmacy label.Charleston Pharmacy, with a refill date visible.He set it down carefully beside the others, intending to examine them again later.The dates would tell him something about the timeline of medication use.
"She had so many pills," Olivia said, watching Barrett."Heart medication, blood pressure medication, cholesterol medication.It was hard to keep track of them all."
Barrett thought that was an odd comment from a professional caregiver.
Cadie reached for the jewelry box, opening it to reveal a simple gold locket and a pair of pearl earrings."Thank you for saving these."
"Of course."Olivia walked them to the door a few minutes later."I hope you find what you're looking for, Mr.Anson."
The phrasing was interesting.She hadn't said, "I hope I was helpful" or "I hope this gives you peace," but "I hope you find what you're looking for," as if she knew he was searching for something specific.
"And Cadie," Olivia said with her hand on the doorknob, "I hope you'll honor your aunt's wishes for that building.She loved it more than anything."
Barrett didn't miss that she'd brought the conversation back to the property.
