KNOX’S POV
The list is divided into categories in her elegant handwriting.
Some items are reasonable: seeing the Northern Lights, visiting her mother’s grave in Switzerland, having one last Christmas with people who matter.
Other items are transparently designed to insert herself back into my life: revisiting the restaurant in Manhattan where we first met, having one last dance at the New Year’s Eve ball, spending a day reminiscing about what we were.
I see through it immediately. This is strategy disguised as sentiment.
The reasonable requests are the opening gambit, the things she knows I’ll agree to because denying a dying woman seems monstrous.
And once I’ve agreed to those, the rest becomes easier to request, harder to refuse.
“Northern Lights,” I say. “The grave visit. That’s
