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A while ago a friend gave me a song to listen to. I don't even remember how it came up. It was written by a witness of a plane crash from the point of view of the person in the plane. I'm not linking it here because it was the most morbidly gut-wrenching song I've ever heard. But there was a line that stuck with me - "I try to move my arm and see that it's not there." I guess this is what I was trying to describe with this page.

Sometimes there is no evil intent. Just a nurse passing you a glass on the wrong side. Because she happened to be there. It was not supposed to happen this way, it was supposed to be someone carefully and slowly informing you but... life is like that sometimes.

Incidentally this marks the half of the first part of the chapter.

All the hugs go to DI Chauncey today.

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