EBOOK
About
It's funny how a piece of paper can change your life-a diploma, a ticket . . . a plain, white envelope
For as long as I could remember, I was the girl with the plan. Good college, good medical school, good career. I would save lives instead of standing by helplessly, watching while they slipped away.
That was before my father called for the first time in fifteen years to tell me about the terminal illness stealing his life-an illness that might be stealing mine, too. It was before he gave me the name of a doctor and a plane ticket to Italy. Before I flew across an ocean. Before I realized how brilliantly bright life could be. Before I met Lucas.
He's everything I've always wanted, and the timing couldn't be worse. I can't do this to him-he deserves so much better. My head tells me I can't afford to fall in love with Lucas, but my heart won't listen. Lucas is fearless about the future, while I'm not even sure I have one. There's only one way to know what's ahead and it's waiting for me at home inside a plain, white envelope.
All I have to do, is open it . . .
For as long as I could remember, I was the girl with the plan. Good college, good medical school, good career. I would save lives instead of standing by helplessly, watching while they slipped away.
That was before my father called for the first time in fifteen years to tell me about the terminal illness stealing his life-an illness that might be stealing mine, too. It was before he gave me the name of a doctor and a plane ticket to Italy. Before I flew across an ocean. Before I realized how brilliantly bright life could be. Before I met Lucas.
He's everything I've always wanted, and the timing couldn't be worse. I can't do this to him-he deserves so much better. My head tells me I can't afford to fall in love with Lucas, but my heart won't listen. Lucas is fearless about the future, while I'm not even sure I have one. There's only one way to know what's ahead and it's waiting for me at home inside a plain, white envelope.
All I have to do, is open it . . .