Chapter 12
I’m beginning to think, if I’m going to spend the last 175 days of my life seeing a lot of Leila, that I should include her in my farewell letter.
At first, the thought makes me shudder. A shiver chases up my spine. The prospect of Leila reading my letter seems somehow inconceivable to me. Until I sit with the thought for a bit and I conclude that, although the letter is only addressed to a few specific people, anyone could read it. I make a note for myself, in a document rather morbidly named TEOI.docx—The End Of Izzy—to leave very clear instructions as to who is allowed to read the letter and who isn’t. I’ve already composed the one that should be posted on my website and social media channels, the one that will, inevitably, become the press release announcing my death.
“Yo
