**WARNING- This chapter contains heavy drug use.**
Year 0 – Month Four – Eight Months Pre-Apocalypse
Frank's POV
I took a deep breath, feeling the specks of dust from my pretty seven-foot grass-green plants fall into my nose and ignite it with the smell of peace. They're so close—much like she was once. I sighed, taking a bud the size of a woman's hand, the wetness of the undried, still-growing stock coating my fingers in crystallised dust. I have an incredible empire, but she was meant to have it with me.
"Frank? Where the fuck are you?" Stephanie cried, exasperated and smacking my perfect plants away from her on the other side of the warehouse.
"I'm here. Stop hitting them or else I'll start counting the buds I lose and take it from your cut," I snapped, the echo of my sharpness causing her to scoff and walk horizontally until she could see me down the row.
