“Within about ten minutes, my hands went numb.

My vision blurred.

I tried to walk down to the warehouse to find someone, to get help.” I held his hand tightly.

“Who made that coffee, Mark?” I asked.

And he took a long time to answer, as if the name itself were a wound.

“Veronica,” he said.

Chapter 15 — Veronica

The name, when Mark finally said it, hit me like a physical blow, and I had to sit down.