She bent down and picked a fleabane daisy from the grass. It smelled like expensive perfume, and she rubbed it on her wrists. She twirled the wildflower between her fingers, and a bumble bee buzzed around her.
"I need help." Her eyes glistened in the sunlight. "But I fear the only reprieve I can find comes from the source of my pain." She chuckled. "As though the vice itself is the cure." She shrugged. "I don't know how else to explain it."