I did the arithmetic.
My stomach turned.
“One year after my remission.”
“That was his intention.”
“He didn’t know I would be in remission.”
“No.”
I looked down at the receipt again. “Then why that date?”
Wade’s eyes shone. “Because he was betting on you.”
The fluorescent light buzzed above us.
I hated those words.
I loved them.
I wanted to tear the receipt in half and hold it against my chest.
Instead I folded it along the same crease Randall had made.
“He bought a future I might not have.”
Wade shook his head. “He bought the possibility.”
“And if I died?”
“The ticket would have gone unused.”
“So would I.”
Wade accepted that without flinching.
Elise set the wristband on the table. For the first time since we entered the unit, her fingers let it go. “There has to be a recording about this.”
Wade looked at the memory cards.
