I was still dazed, thinking about the previous memory.
It made me wonder if I fell in love with Dante as an adult because I genuinely did so or simply because I was romanticizing our time as childhood friends.
Shaking my head, I realized there was no point in questioning my motives for loving him. In the end, it was my attachment to him, superficial or not, that made my last few moments alive a living hell.
I started whistling the song "Fallen" (the same song that Boss sang for me back in high school) in such an off-key manner that it barely had any semblance to the original song. My horrible whistling lightly echoed in the storage room, which was so huge it was more of a warehouse.
"Time to open my next jar, I guess," I hummed, grabbing a random jar without giving it much thought anymore.
