I Mowed the Lawn for the 82-Year-Old Widow Next Door – The Next Morning, a Sheriff Woke Me up with a Request That Made My Blood Run Cold

Mrs. Higgins grinned, but her grip on the mower didn’t loosen. “Seriously, let me help,” I said, stepping closer.

“You shouldn’t be out here in this heat.”

She frowned.

“It’s too much for you, dear. You should be resting, not moving lawns for old ladies.”

I shrugged.

“Resting is overrated. Besides, I need the distraction.”

I hesitated, then shook my head, forcing a smile.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

I reached for the mower.

She let go, finally, sinking onto the porch steps with a grateful sigh. “Thank you, Ariel. You’re a lifesaver.”

I started the mower.

Every push was a struggle, sweat rolled down my spine, and stuck my shirt to my back.