“
I swear,” I say gently, dropping my hand to my side. “Baby, I swear. You can go first, okay? Alice Cooper and his wife have a death pact. We can make one too. We’ll be in our 80s—well, that would make you like 90, right? But we’ll take the grandkids sledding. You’ll be in front on the toboggan, and we’ll crash ourselves into a tree, okay? You’ll feel the impact first. Will that count?” She sniffles, trying not to smile. “Yeah, okay.
”
”