**Diary Entry**
Fate has a way of playing tricks. It can hurl you into despair so deep you can barely breatheor lift you with such joy that the air itself seems to sparkle.
Daisy was young, inexperienced, yet her path had already been written. On that bitter winter morning, she stood by her grandmothers grave, watching as the frozen earth swallowed the coffin. Her heart ached, hollowed by loss. Daisy had been raised by her grandmother, Eleanor, since she was ten, after her parents passed.
A light snow drifted down, but she hardly noticed. The handful of mourners had begun to disperse when her cousin, Jeremy, approached. Theyd never been closehis mother, Eleanors estranged daughter, had kept him away.
He leaned in, voice low.
You wont be staying in Nans house. Pack your things and leave today. Ive as much right as you. Dont even think of arguing.
Daisy had no strength to fight. After months of nursing Eleanor through her final illness, grief weighed too heavily. Jeremy wasnt askingjust declaring.
The wake was held in a modest café, but Jeremy didnt bother showing. Few did. When Daisy returned to the house, her bags were already by the door.
Check if I missed anything, he said coldly. Then go.
Clutching her two suitcases, she stepped out, directionlessuntil their neighbour, Margaret, called her over.
Come inside, love, she urged.
Daisy collapsed onto a chair and weptgrief, anger, betrayal spilling out. Margaret handed her water.
Stay with us for now. Things will look clearer tomorrow.
Two days later, Daisy returned to her nursing shift at the hospital. She was well-likedher warm smile and kind eyes had always been a comfort to patients. Now, though, her eyes held only sorrow.
Everyone knew about Eleanors passing. The staff, even the patients, treated her gently.
Youve got a magic touch, Daisy, joked Mr. Thompson, an elderly patient. One smile, and I forget my aches! If only I were fifty years younger
She forced a smile. She loved her work, loved caring for people. The head nurse, Evelyn, offered her a cottagea bit far, but doable by bus.
We only use it summers. Youre welcome to stay till you sort things out.
Daisy was about to accept when Dr. Oliver, the handsome new physician, approached. Confident, thirty, and recently relocated, his proposition stunned her.
Daisy, I heard about your situation. My gran raised me tooparents divorced, neither wanted me. I noticed you straightaway. Your eyeslike sunlight in this place. She flushed. Id like you to move in with me.
Her voice wavered. But what about Dr. Charlotte? Everyone says youre together.
He laughed. Rumours. We studied together, thats all. Besides, Ive got GranBeatriceliving with me. Shes been nagging me to bring a girl home.
Daisy hesitated. People will talk.
Youll have your own room. No pressure. Just give us a chance.
She agreedon one condition. Lets say you hired me to care for your grandmother.
Brilliant, he grinned.
At last, a safe place. And if Oliver truly fancied her perhaps fate had smiled.
The hospital believed the arrangement. Beatrice, kind and warm, wept hearing Daisys story.
Im so glad Oliver found you, dear. Life sorts itself out.
Weeks passed. Daisy grew fond of Beatrice. Oliver was often on opposite shifts, but when they met, hed hug her, murmuring how glad he was shed come.
One evening, Beatrice hesitated. Why separate rooms? Young couples usually
Daisy blushed. I cant just jump into bed. I need time.
Life was good. She rushed home to Beatrice, chatting like she once had with Eleanor.
Youre perfect for him, Beatrice sighed. Modest, kindeverything he needs.
Then, one afternoon, Oliver took her aside.
Grans ill. Cancer. She doesnt knowI dont want her frightened. But she forgets her pills. Could you make sure she takes them?
Daisy agreed. He kissed herdeeplybut she pulled away, flustered.
That night, uneasy, she crept to Olivers doorajar. His voice, icy, froze her.
She bought it, Charlotte. Naïve little thing. Once the pills do their work, well be free. Just hold on, darling. Well marry soon enough.
Her hands shook as she recorded every word.
Daisy confronted Beatrice the next morning. There was no illnessjust a grandsons greed.
When Oliver returned, Beatrice handed him a stack of bills.
Take it and go. I know what you planned. Or I take this recording to the police.
He left that day. Daisy stayed. And who knows? Perhaps one day, that grand London flat would be hers.
