Chapter 38

I baked and cooked the entire rest of the day, trying to work off all my frustrations about Mase, both sexual and not, and every other fucked up thing that powered my life. He had no right to suggest I give up iron just to help the ghosts. Maybe I should've kept all my scars like he had so I could wave them under his nose. He didn't get it, and I could sit and describe it to him all day, but he still wouldn't. No one could unless they'd seen what the ghosts used to do to me firsthand. Someone like Pop and Ellison.

Their faces flitted through my head in such extreme detail, it felt like they were here with me, in the flesh, offering me comfort as they had every time before now. I would give anything to have them both at my side to tell Mase how reckless and stupid his idea was. That it would end badly without iron.