When we finally let go of each other we take in what’s around us. Firstly, looking back to the route we’ve taken is quite the sight to behold; it looks like we’ve been walking for miles. Then looking to the way we’re heading, we see a beautiful deep green lagoon, the edges tinged with a touch of turquoise. The mountains continue to roll around it, the sun poking through the clouds causing huge shadows to dance across them. Up ahead the snow-capped Chicon Mountain stands, glistening in all its glory. Although being so high up it doesn’t seem as mammoth as it might from below.

‘Wow,’ I breathe.

‘Stunning,’ says Vicky.

‘Beats the view from the window at work,’ laughs Zaza.

‘Worth it?’ grins Scott, pulling lunch out of a container that was hidden for us behind a rock.

‘Absolutely,’ Vicky smiles, pulling Zaza and me back in for another hug.

We huddle close, getting battered by the wind while we take some photos, before settling down for some food – cheese and ham sandwiches accompanied by a chocolate nut bar and a banana. While we eat I look at the beautiful view ahead of us.

Pia.

She appears in my mind as though she’s here.

She would love this, that us mates are here together, that we’re feeling challenged and pushing through, and the breathtaking views surrounding us.

I decide that it’s time.

‘I haven’t told you guys something,’ I say, once we’ve all finished our food.

‘Sounds interesting,’ says Zaza, shuffling to face me.

‘All ears,’ adds Vicky, with an expectant smile.

‘I was going to tell you sooner but it never felt like the right time. Now it does,’ I begin.

Pia never talked about what should happen with her when she died. We talked about everything else, hence the Rules of Death, but not that. It was a topic neither of us wanted to broach because we didn’t want to make it any sort of a reality, as though if we addressed it we were truly allowing her dying to be an option when neither of us wanted it to be. Yes, we could talk about material things like clothes and belongings, and she clearly felt she could write about me going on a hypothetical trip at some point in the future – but talking about her body in death felt like a different ask altogether. I didn’t want to think about her body when she was no longer using it. It felt like a betrayal of all the hope I had been clinging on to, no matter how many times the doctors said there was nothing more they could do for her. That the cancer had outsmarted their drugs.