The first few lines were the same ones Theo had read at the funeral.
But there was a final paragraph he hadn’t shared with everyone.
It said:
“Mom, if you’re reading this, I’m sorry. I know you hate talking about this stuff. I hate it too. I’m still planning to get better, so don’t start looking at me like that. But if things don’t work out, please don’t let everyone remember me as the sick kid. I was a lot of other things. Mostly annoying. Sometimes brilliant. Always handsome. Don’t argue with that last part.”
I laughed and cried at the same time.
Then I read the final sentence.
“Please look after Theo. He pretends he’s fine when he’s not. Also, tell Dad I was right about the refrigerator. The big one is worth the money.”
I pressed the paper against my chest.
Even at the end, Jack had been thinking about us.
