15. The Second Worst Night of Mine
Mina
It had become quite evident that Ben’s absence, even in large doses, lacked any quantifiable curative properties whatsoever.
In those weeks without him, the hallucinations continued unabated, and the pain in my stomach spread up to my chest and lymph nodes and settled there.
Grief is my least favorite sensation, one notch worse than electrocution, even, but I have a lot of experience feeling it while maintaining maximum functionality.
My weakened brain stung and shuddered when I clenched it protectively around the compromised part of itself, around my relevant memories and aching body parts like a layer of cast-iron armor, and for the moment, it held.
It was my own fault. I’d known when I’d stayed in contact with Ben after the Warehouse that I
