salary alone exceeded what she currently earned from both jobs combined.
She stared at me.
Speechless.
“Tyler…”
I shook my head.
“Read the rest.”
She continued reading.
Flexible hours.
Remote work.
Caregiver accommodations.
Additional support services.
Then she reached the final page.
And started crying.
Not quietly.
Not politely.
The kind of crying that comes from years of exhaustion finally breaking.
Because the last page wasn’t about her.
It was about her brother.
The company-sponsored care program.
Specialized support.
Transportation assistance.
Medical coordination.
Everything.
Charlotte lowered the papers.
“You can’t
