The pillow rustles as she turns her head toward me. ‘That sounds great.’
We both know she will never need this necklace. The doctors told us. Only a few days left, maybe hours, and still I cannot accept it. I will not stop believing that everything can still turn out all right.
‘There’s something in the drawer that I want to give you.’ With an effort she lifts her hand and points to her nightstand.
I feel sick on the spot, but I don’t let her see it. ‘Oh please, let it be the chocolate pudding I like so much.’
She laughs softly. A light moment. At least.
In the drawer I find a sheet of paper. A farewell letter? A last will?
I can hardly bring myself to touch it, but I want to be strong for her, so I pick it up and unfold it.
‘First: Adopt a dog from the animal shelter,’ I read out loud and look up. ‘What is this?’
She swallows, her expression turning far too serious. ‘A list of all the things I still wanted to do.’
My chest tightens.
‘I might not get the chance to fulfil these wishes anymore.’ Her words are only a whisper, yet they hurt as if she had just shouted at me.
Unable to say anything, I shake my head.
‘Would you take care of that?’ Her hand touches mine, feather-light and cold. ‘Can you live my dreams for me when I’m no longer…’ Her voice breaks.
‘That won’t be necessary,’ I reply earnestly. ‘You’ll be able to live them yourself, every single one of them.’ Because she will get better.
‘Promise me.’ Her breathing is shallow. ‘Promise me that my wishes won’t be lost.’
I can’t do this.
As if she could sense my thoughts, she smiles gently. ‘Of course, I’m only giving you the list for the unlikely case that I don’t get out of here,’ she says, and I know she’s only doing it for me, which hurts all the more intensely.
Tears burn in my eyes. ‘You’re getting out of here.’
‘I will, Jayjay, I will.’ She points at the sheet of paper in my hand. ‘Keep this safe for me until then.’
That I can do. ‘Okay, until you’re feeling better again.’ I fold the sheet and slip it into my jacket pocket. ‘I’ll get a chain and a carabiner today.’
‘Then it’ll be safer with you than anywhere else in the world.’ Camee closes her eyes with a relieved sigh. ‘And only for the unlikely case that something happens to me, would you then…’
I look at the face of the person with whom I was one half of a whole for years. I see my Camee. For months she has been confined to hospital beds. Months in which she could still have lived her dreams, in which the two of us could still have spent so much time together in beautiful places.
‘Promise me,’ she breathes. ‘Please.’
Gently I take her hand. ‘I promise,’ I say, and deep inside me the question seethes whether she regrets the treatment. Whether, instead of only hoping for a life, she wouldn’t rather have truly lived a little longer.
It was the last time we saw each other. The last words we exchanged, the last touches.
The list is all that was left of her. Until yesterday, when the first memory surfaced in me.
‘What do you have to do with Lilly’s bucket list?’ Nyla, who is still standing opposite me unchanged, wants to know again.
My jaws grind against each other, I look at her, searching for support in her eyes so I can withstand the storm that will rise up inside me as soon as I answer her question.
‘She was my little sister,’ I say, and then it happens.
I see my little Camee on the beach, her pants full of sand, her tongue stuck out in concentration as she tips over the red bucket. I see her eating her birthday cake with her fingers, her mouth smeared with chocolate, her eyes full of happiness. I see her dancing. A red scarf with fringes tied around her hips, a glitter hair clip next to her ear, her arms stretched up high.