. . . dare to speak to me . . . BY Morrigan

Grainne paused before she answered,  most people were not bold enough to pry further.  At this point, they usually either began with sympathetic noises or acted confused and awkward, unsure of how to respond.  Such frankness, thought it caught her off guard, was refreshing in its own way.

“Head injury.” Her words were soft, but her tone was clipped and sharp.  “From years ago, so there not much hope of anything improving.”