Fíadh's breath hitches as he says it, and that stone in her chest seems to sink harder and harder until it explodes into a fire of anger. She whirls on the boy with a look of rage etched into her face but eyes wide. Her mouth opens to say something, then closes. What does he know? But he's a medic, he does know. But that doesn't mean he's experienced the worst of it. But maybe he has. Logic and rage war in her brain as she flaps her mouth like a fish until finally something instinctively pops out.

"Trasna ort féin!"

She jams her hand into her coinpurse and slams some money on the table, not bothering to count the amount.

"This was a mistake."

She whirls to the door and strides to leave, brushing people aside easily.