How Moka would die

By the time I learnt I have twenty four hours to live. I would be on a plane heading towards Australia with my family in tow. I wouldn’t care about money. I would finally meet “Miss C. Heming” in person and likely die from a heart attack before whatever was killing me. That would be my goodbye to everyone I know, dying around those who are most important to me.

“And in the end, it's not the years in your life that count. It's the life in your years."

Abraham Lincoln