[This post is from Gray Miller’s point of view.]
Phelan stared at him for a long moment, his brow furrowing. “Use what? Seamus’s gamble that didn’t pay off?”
“We might be able to leverage it into paying off,” Gray said, his thoughts starting to race. Family’s important to her—she’s doing this because of her family. There has to be a way to use this. “I’m not sure how, but there’s got to be something.”
“Well, I’m open to suggestions right now,” Phelan said, fidgeting with his book. “We’ve been talking about it. Everyone knows what she’s planning and none of us like it, but short of physically restraining her, she’s got the right of it—we can’t stop her from doing this if she’s got her mind set on it.” He exhaled slowly. “And I’m not comfortable treating my sister like some sort of prisoner, either.”
“Then what’s our other option?”
He looked away. “Letting her do it and hopefully fail, but not get herself killed. That might be our only option at this point, Gray. There might not be any other choices left to us. I wish—I wish there were. I truly do.”
His stomach dropped straight through him to the ground. Gray’s hands curled into fists and he swallowed bile that suddenly crept higher and higher in his throat. “You can’t be serious.”
“I don’t have any other options. She won’t listen to reason, I won’t lock her up. All I can do at this point is mitigate the damage that happens as best I can.” Phelan started to move past him, his face pale and expression grim.
Gray’s hand shot out to stop him.
“That’s not a good answer, O’Credne,” Gray said, his voice abruptly hoarse. “Come up with something better.”
“I wish I could,” Phelan said, then shook off Gray’s hand. “Like I said. I’m open to suggestions.”
All Gray could do then was stand there and watch him go.
Suggestions were one thing he was fresh out of.
