To my husband, Len,

       for believing in one last chance

      Contents

       Cover

Vanessa’s Bucket List

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Extract

       Copyright

Prologue

      Carrollton Cancer Center, Philadelphia, PA Eleven months ago

      “Okay, read it to me...” Adele’s voice faded for a moment as she struggled to speak against the plastic mask covering her nose and mouth that supplied her with fresh oxygen. “...again. We need to finish our list.”

      Vanessa Brent swallowed hard against the lump in her throat that refused to go away. Every time she walked into this room—as plush and beautiful and unlike a hospital room as a sun-filled space could be—she had the same physical reaction and it stayed with her until she’d left again.

      One would think after three months of being here on a daily basis she’d be used to the sight of her best friend fighting a battle they’d recently accepted she wasn’t going to win. That she’d be able to sit here, hold Adele’s hand and do as she asked.

      “All of it?” Glad her words managed to find their way around the obstacle in her throat, Vanessa glanced at the aged piece of paper she held in her hand. Titled “Adele and Vanessa’s Bucket List, created July 4, 2001, Secret Clubhouse, Vanessa’s Attic, Chestnut Hill, PA,” the well-creased, lined sheet of notebook paper was covered with two distinct styles of handwriting, one belonging to her twelve-year-old self and the other a more mature scrawl. “Or just the things we’ve added?”

      They’d discovered the childhood list one day while going through some forgotten boxes in Vanessa’s loft apartment. Back when they’d thought Adele had once again beaten the childhood cancer that returned at the tender age of twenty-five, but then went into remission after treatment.

      That had been just before Easter. By early June Adele was back in the hospital, but during those few precious weeks they’d managed to check off some of the items on their list.

      “Start at the beginning.” Adele turned to look at her, the bright red silk scarf protecting her sensitive scalp brushing against the pillow. “Let’s review...what we’ve done...so far.”

      Taking a deep breath, she started reading. “Number one—dance beneath the Eiffel Tower. I did that back in college the year I studied abroad,” Vanessa said, thankful she had a photograph to honor the event as she technically didn’t remember doing so thanks to generous amounts of wine that night. “Number two—swim in the Pacific Ocean. You did that when you were in college.”

      Adele smiled, but remained silent.

      “Number three—get a tattoo.” Letting go, she flipped her hand and laid it side by side next her friend’s, their matching interlocking heart tattoos visible on their inner wrists. “Number four—see a Broadway show. By ourselves.”

      They’d done both on a last-minute road trip to New York City that Adele had insisted on in May not long after they’d found their long forgotten list.

      “Shouldn’t have taken us...until age twenty-five to accomplish—” her friend rasped “—either of those.”

      “Considering how unhappy your mother was with us for taking off without telling her, not to mention our permanent souvenirs, we’re lucky she didn’t ground us when we got home like