Ben felt a fresh wave of anger ripple through him at the confirmation, and he scrambled to his feet. This was the guy who was responsible for this disaster, and that was what Ben was latching onto — not that he was young and looked relatively unassuming, not that there were people around to see, not that Angie was standing between him and Greengrass. No, he focused on the fact that Greengrass was responsible for whatever was wrong with Melody — because if it wasn't Greengrass, it would have to be him. He'd given her the potion, it had been his suggestion — and yesterday some bitch going by Meredith Watchword had implied he would have preferred if his wife was dead, and he — he couldn’t handle this. She couldn't be dying, and if she was it couldn’t — it couldn't be his fault.

"The fuck did you put in that potion?" Ben hissed, taking a step closer to Greengrass. He wouldn't have been capable of going anywhere else in his current state of mind, so ignored the suggestion — ignored everything, including Macmillan behind him and Angie at his side and everything except the anger and hurt and desperation building up in him.