Naturally, Flynn has to confirm this. He tries to do it discreetly— a little wiggle in the chair, feeling the strange stick like someone's glued him down— but the chair scrapes along the floor in protest, rocking with him, and he winces and settles back.

"Of course," this more of an annoyed huff than a word, with an accompanying scowl cast at the table, "this would happen again. It's— well, you've only just arrived, haven't you?"