I Took Care Of My Mom Until Her Last Breath — And My Brother Took The House And Left Me With Nothing I was the one who bathed her. Fed her spoon by spoon. Sat through sleepless nights, holding her hand when the pain became unbearable. And my brother, Artyom? He breezed in only when it suited him. A quick bouquet. A short visit. “If something happens, call me.” Then, suddenly… she was gone. I hadn’t even begun to grieve when Artyom called a “family meeting.” But it wasn’t a meeting — it was a ver