The second the door closed, Heather suddenly felt like she would throw up. As she frantically looked around for a bucket, Balgair watched her.
“Is something wrong?” Now, what’s wrong? It can’t be her health because Ananke healed her. Could it be nerves?
The blonde-headed bean-cheangail took a deep heavy breath. “I don’t know if I can do this, Maighstir.” She wondered if she looked as green as she felt.
“Do what, mo tè àlainn?” It’s got to be nerves. Even though he figured it was nerves, he didn’t know what he could do about it other than let her experience what she felt was making her sick.
“Face your two bannaichean.” She heaved another deep breath. “Do they know that I exist? Will they hate me? Are they going to be mad at me?” She grabbed the table's edge as her knees threatened to go out from under her.
Now I get it. Balgair stepped over and slipped an arm around her. “It’ll be okay, mo tè àlainn, by now they know about you.”
Heather looked panicked. “How? Who told them? …
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