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“Of course,” she says. “When I arrived this mornin’, yer mother made introductions straight away.” She glances at Mannie before looking back at me. “Someone mentioned there’d been a bit of a scuffle last night—”
I scoff, cutting her off before I can stop myself.
“A scuffle, they said?”
Her gaze shifts to Alex. Then to Robert. To the careful way they’re sitting, and the way both keep their sleeves tugged low despite the warmth of the room.
“Show her,” I say.
They both hesitate.
“She needs to see it. Not the polite version. The truth.” I add, firmer now.
I cut my eyes to Mannie as I say it.
Alex exhales through his nose and tugs his sleeve back.
The bandage beneath is neat—Róisín’s work—but it can’t hide the way the skin around it is reddened, bruised, and angry.
Robert follows suit without a word.
They unwrap their bandages at the same time.
“Gods,” Ellen whispers.
Róisín swears under her breath, muttering something about her handiwork practically meaning nothing.
Alex clears his throat, already reaching to cover himself again. “Apologies,” he says lightly. “Sorry to spoil such a delightful breakfast.”
Ellen doesn’t laugh.
Whatever softness she’d been holding drains away, replaced by something colder, more focused. Her gaze lifts to me, and when she says my name, it carries a thousand questions I don’t yet have words for.
“James,” she says quietly.
I squeeze her hand once. “I dinnae ken what we were attacked by, but it was no natural born animal.”
Ma is growing irritated. “James Sinclair, we are tryin’ to get everyone settled before we—”
“We dinnae want to be settled,” I cut in. “We want answers.”
Róisín’s hand snaps out and lands flat against my chest—more reprimand than blow, but it still knocks the air from my lungs. “James,” she scolds under her breath, eyes bright with warning. “Don’t ya dare speak over your mam.”
Ma’s mouth tightens as if she’d been about to do the same herself.
I swallow, forcing my temper back down. It doesn’t stay there long, only shifts to another concern.
“Where’s Da?”
“Taskill left early,” Mannie answers. “There were animals that never made it home last night, and given the circumstances, he went to search for them at first light.”
“You sent my father out there alone?” I’m on my feet before I realise I’ve moved, the chair scraping back hard. “After what came onto our land?”
Ma pushes to her feet like she’s been waiting for an excuse. Her chair scrapes harder than mine. For someone so slight, she somehow feels bigger than me as she squares up across the table, eye to eye.
“Enough,” she bites out, tone lethal. “You’re wound tight and lookin’ for something to lash out at.”
“Aye, what if he gets hurt, Ma?” I shoot back.
