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These guys have a habit of answering one question and, hydra-like, creating five new ones in the process. Before I can ask what he means, Finlay thrusts out a box of chocolates at me.
“Life is like a box o’ chocolates. Over quickly.” He pops one into his mouth and savors the taste with a cheerful hum. “Danny left ‘em for ye. Sweet lad. Even sweeter chocolates.”
I stare at the box. “It’s half-empty.”
“Naw, naw, sassenach. It’s half-full.” His expression is sickeningly adorable as he smiles at me, and I have to turn away for my own sanity.
I seem to be in some kind of medical wing of the castle. It’s a small room with two single beds on each side of the wall. And that’s when I notice the thick white boot bound around my leg.
I make a small, urgent noise I can only describe as a whimper.
Finlay glances down at me with a sad little smile. “I’m no’ gonna lie, it isnae great, sassenach.” He takes another chocolate, unwrapping it and then turning it over between his fingers, before unexpectedly passing it to me. “Yer leg snapped at the ankle. And bad luck, sassenach, because they’re sayin’ it’ll takemonthstae heal. That karma’s a real bitch, aye?”
