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Summary
Chim thought a group therapy session would be civilised. He was very wrong. The 118 unpack their trauma’s the only way they know how. Sarcastically, loudly, and with zero filter. Somehow, amidst chaos, grief, and deflections, they figure out that maybe, just maybe, they’re not as alone as they think.
———
“Well,” he said loudly, sitting up straighter, “I died. Technically.”
Chim perked up immediately. “Oh good, we are counting that.”
Alex stared at him, then at Buck. “You died?”
“Three minutes,” Buck said proudly.
Hen squinted at him. “Why are you proud of that?”
“It’s a club.”
“That is not a club,” Alex said weakly.
“It’s the NDE club,” Buck shot back.
Eddie frowned. “The NDE club?”
“The Near Death Experience club,” Buck clarified.
“But you actually died,” Ravi pointed out.
Buck shrugged. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”