Cainan nodded, then remembered the man couldn’t see him very well. “Aye. She sits with me.” His mind wasn’t so addled that he didn’t know how absurd he sounded. He understood better than anyone that his wife was dead and gone. “I know it’s not really her, but it still feels nice. Because it’s exactly how I want to remember her. She’s kind, and makes me laugh until my sides hurt, and is so beautiful I just want to reach out and touch her but I never do because once I did and she just vanished and I don’t want that.”

“Of course ye don’t,” Mick said, as though anything about what Cainan was saying made sense in a normal sort of way. He’d always been a good friend like that. Cainan was glad he hadn’t changed in the last decade.

“Do you think my daughter despises me?”

“No.”

The man’s answer was too quick for Cainan’s liking. “Why not?”

“Because I have daughters of me own. Three now, in fact.” He said this with unabashed pride, and Cainan wished he had the energy to stand to look through the slot. He thought he’d enjoy seeing the joyful gleam in his friend’s eyes.

“I’m happy for you.”

“I am too. Mostly because they take after their mother in looks, thank the gods.” Cainan chuckled at that but said nothing more as all this talk of daughters had caused tears to pool in his eyes. Mick continued. “I’ve made more mistakes than I can count without takin’ off me shoes when it comes to raisin’ me daughters, but they still have a kiss fer me on my cheek when the mornin’ light shines on each new dawn.”

“And if the new dawn never comes?”

“Then they’ll kiss me in the dark.”

Something about the man’s simple view of the world and the place of those he loved in it made Cainan smile, even as salty liquid wetted his lips. “You’re a good man, Mick. I’m glad you’re back.”

“Ye’ll be even gladder when ye taste this—” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “—hard-boiled egg. I even managed to salt and pepper it a bit.”

The metal plate slid through the slot and Cainan stretched his hand as high as he could, barely managing to grasp its edge. He pulled the saucer down to reveal the usual bland, molten fare, along with a single hard-boiled egg, the white looking almost bright and shiny in the dark, like it was a precious gemstone. “Thank you, Mick.”

“There’s more where that came from, that’s a promise. And I don’t even need to sneak ’em from Comman Dur’s supplies. Got me own egg chicken now. Three of ’em, in fact.”

“That’s great, Mick.” Cainan sat there, staring at that egg, not having the heart to tell him it was far too dry for his sandpaper-like throat to swallow anymore, for even the brackish water had stopped leaking into his cell long years ago.

Twenty-eight years earlier