Three Referrals, One Trail
Daria accepts 3 fragile hospice wishes whose papers carry the same Pohl Estate trail and wonders whether they have been arranged as a trap.
Read what Daria says
I make dying strangers' last wishes come true. Hospice nurse Nomvula Dlamini sent me to the Salt River desk because she trusts me with referrals she cannot refuse.
The clients pay only after they accept proof. I visit them at home, in hospital or in hospice, and I never pretend to be anyone else.
Aisha Jacobs, a dying widow, wants proof of where her vineyard money went. Solomon Grey, a dying father, wants his son back inside his seaside house. Iris Bell, a hospice patient, wants Tamsin Kade, a registrar declared dead.
My mother Marika Van is losing the family house in Observatory. Her call came again, and her unfinished drawing was trapped beneath my windscreen while I drove away.
Aisha's receipt had a Pohl stamp. Solomon's referral was copied. Iris knew Tamsin's medical cuff number. Had 3 clients been chosen to lead me somewhere?
I photographed every matching detail and accepted all 3 before the storm arrived. I could walk away, but none of them had the time I needed to check alone.
A loose wiper blade snapped across the dashboard and cut my thumb. The sketch caught, and part of the blue door tore away.
I did see enough to suspect a trap. I accepted the cases anyway and drove west because their time was running out, but Solomon's copied sheet pointed toward Ethan Grey, his son.
