“Finally, only her and Benji and the solitude she craved. But with solitude came feelings. Anger. Hovering between life and death. Wanting one, then the other. Hating Michael. Grieving for him because she’d loved him so. But most of all grieving for Willow until the pain became so great that she welcomed the numbness back as if a long-lost lover.”

“Finally, only her and Benji and the solitude she craved. But with solitude came feelings. Anger. Hovering between life and death. Wanting one, then the other. Hating Michael. Grieving for him because she’d loved him so. But most of all grieving for Willow until the pain became so great that she welcomed the numbness back as if a long-lost lover.”

— Dominique Wilson