His eyes brightened in a way his body no longer could.
“One ticket.”
I felt Elise’s hand find mine again.
“Meryl’s.”
Randall looked down at the receipt. “The date is a year from the remission milestone they’re hoping for. Hoping. That’s a dangerous word.”
His smile disappeared.
“I know this might be wasted money.”
Wade’s recorded voice came from offscreen. “You’re wasting money you could use for yourself.”
Randall turned toward him. “For what? A nicer death?”
Present-day Wade closed his eyes.
Randall looked back at the camera. “If she gets there, I want there to be something waiting that has nothing to do with hospitals. Nothing to do with me leaving. Nothing to do with insurance forms or medicine schedules.”
He swallowed.
“I want one thing on the calendar that assumes she lives.”
My vision blurred.
Randall’s hand shook as he set the receipt down. “Maybe she’ll hate the idea. Maybe she’ll tear it up. Maybe she’ll take somebody else. Maybe she’ll go alone.”
