Sam sat at his desk, his leg throbbing dully beneath the cast. The accident had left him bruised and battered, but not broken. Despite the pain, he had returned to work as soon as he could. He couldn't afford to lose his job, not with the bills piling up and no other prospects in sight.
"Sam, you okay?" Marianne from accounting asked, peeking over the partition between their cubicles.
"Yeah, just a bit sore," Sam replied, forcing a smile.
"If you need anything, let me know," she offered, her eyes filled with genuine concern.
"Thanks, Marianne. I appreciate it."
The days blurred together in a haze of paperwork and deadlines. Mr. Hendricks was as relentless as ever, his disapproval hanging over Sam like a storm cloud. But Sam kept his head down and worked hard, driven by a determination to push through the hardships.
One afternoon, as Sam was meticulously reviewing a stack of reports, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and saw a number he recognized all too well. His heart sank as he answered the call.
"Hello?"
"Sam, it's Dr. Roberts," the familiar voice said, heavy with somberness. "It's your grandfather. He's taken a turn for the worse. You should come as soon as you can."
Sam's breath caught in his throat. "I'll be there. Thank you for letting me know."
He hung up and stared at his desk, his mind racing. His grandfather was the only family he had left, the one person who had always believed in him. The thought of losing him was almost too much to bear.
Sam stood and made his way to Mr. Hendricks' office, his hands shaking slightly. He knocked on the door, and a gruff voice called out, "Come in."
"Mr. Hendricks, I need to take some time off," Sam said, trying to keep his voice steady. "My grandfather is very ill, and I need to be with him."
Mr. Hendricks looked up from his computer, his expression one of irritation. "Time off? You just had an accident, Sam. We need you here."
"I understand, sir, but this is an emergency. He's the only family I have left."
Mr. Hendricks sighed heavily. "How long do you need?"
"A few days, maybe a week at most," Sam replied, hoping it would be enough.
"Fine," Mr. Hendricks said reluctantly. "But don't expect any special treatment when you get back. We have deadlines to meet."
"Thank you, sir," Sam said, turning to leave.
The journey to his hometown was a blur of trains and buses, the landscape passing by in a monotony of green and gray. As he approached his grandfather's house, memories of his childhood flooded back—summer days spent running through the fields, the warm embrace of his grandmother, the stories his grandfather used to tell by the fire.
When he arrived, the house seemed smaller, more fragile than he remembered. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Dr. Roberts opened it, his face a mask of professionalism.
"He's in his room, Sam. He's been asking for you."
Sam nodded and walked down the familiar hallway, his footsteps echoing softly. He paused at the door, gathering his courage, and then stepped inside.
His grandfather lay on the bed, looking frail and small beneath the covers. His eyes were closed, his breathing shallow. But as Sam approached, his eyes fluttered open, and a weak smile spread across his face.
"Sammy, you made it," his grandfather said, his voice a faint whisper.
"Of course, Grandpa. I came as soon as I could."
His grandfather reached out a trembling hand, and Sam took it, feeling the thin, papery skin beneath his fingers.
"Do you remember the stories I used to tell you?" his grandfather asked, his eyes distant.
"Of course, Grandpa. I remember them all."
"You were always such a good boy, Sam. So full of life and curiosity. Your grandmother and I were so proud of you."
Tears welled up in Sam's eyes, but he blinked them back. "I miss her, Grandpa. I miss both of you."
"I know, Sammy. I miss her too. But she's waiting for me, and I'll be with her soon."
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the years hanging between them. Then his grandfather spoke again, his voice even softer.
"There's something I need to tell you, Sam. In the attic, behind the old chest, there's a box. Inside it, you'll find the deeds to our family's land—thousands of acres of farmland. It's yours now. Take care of it, and take care of yourself."
Sam's eyes widened in surprise. "I... I didn't know, Grandpa. I promise I'll take care of it."
His grandfather smiled one last time. "I know you will, Sammy. I know you will."
As the sun set outside, casting a golden glow over the room, Sam sat by his grandfather's side, holding his hand until the end. The grief was overwhelming, but so was the love that filled his heart. He knew that no matter what hardships lay ahead, he would find a way to honor his grandfather's memory and the legacy he had left behind.