In the face of anything less important, Cian would have countered his sister’s scornful look with an insistence of I’m serious. But the words won’t come, and he feels like he’s already said enough- already said too much, actually. Instead, he just meets her look with the same wide-eyed one, scrambling away to give her room and making no promises in response to her muttered words. For all intent, it scared him into being almost calm.

He can see when Siobhan notices it from the way his sister pauses in a similar way he had, motionless, head tilted up to take it all in. And when Fiadh rises, he follows behind, close on her heels, waiting for the confirmation from his mother. Surely she’d know what it was. She’d have the answers.

Except she didn’t seem to. And even if she didn’t, she still took the first steps further out, leaving Cian hovering in the entrance of the den.

What’s wrong with it?

Even though he’s sure of the truth, he hopes that someone actually knows. His parents have known everything so far, so the idea that they may not know this isn’t right.