“Special how?”
“You’ll see. Tell me everything tonight at dinner. You can sleep at the house until you figure something out, but fair warning, we only have the living room couch, and it’s not exactly comfortable…”
“Thanks. That’s kind of you.”
He hangs up.
I remain seated on the edge of my bed, phone still in my hand, watching raindrops trace random paths down the windowpane.
“A delayed welcome council.”
McKinnon haunting every conversation.
A village systematically rejecting me.
And now, McGregor Castle.
Could this situation possibly get any worse?
I look at my phone, then my suitcase, then the rain still pouring outside the window.
Somewhere out there, the villagers are probably congratulating themselves for getting rid of the unsuitable doctor.
I stand up and start packing my suitcase.
CHAPTER 8
MARY
Anything but That
(Or How Going Back Home Doesn’t Go Entirely as Planned)
The plumber arrives twenty minutes late.
I don’t hold it against him because, technically, I’m already at the end of my rope, and twenty extra minutes won’t change the disaster my life has become.
He inspects the living room ceiling with the leisurely pace of a snail that has all day ahead of it.
Which probably isn’t even the case.
“So?” I finally ask after what feels like an eternity.
He scratches his graying beard.
“It’s not great.”
“I’d noticed, thanks.”
“The whole ceiling’s gonna have to be redone. The plaster’s ruined. And we’ll need to check whether the water damagedthe beams. Not to mention redoing the plumbing entirely, of course.”
My stomach tightens.
“How long will it take?”
“I’d say two months. Minimum.”
I blink.
