2. She had not chosen her life, but she was foggy on whether or not it was right to deny others the right to join her in her suffering. She looked upon it with pity as she drank his diabetic blood and saw that several of his fingers were missing. "Jump!" cried Ben, in a voice of thunder. "My child!" he groaned faintly. “I cannot keep silence any longer. I ought to be able to think things out. “Why are you so distant? Why all the mystery? What are you, a narc? Double-oh-seven or something?” She steeled herself, refusing to react.
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