Chapter 19
“Just a scratch.” Ciaran smiled.
“No, it’s not. The LeBlanc’s painkiller is top of the line, but you can’t rely on it any longer. And you can’t carry a bullet in your shoulder for more than twelve hours—even one hour is too long for my liking,” Doctor Thomas said.
“The Roman soldiers shot at you?” Madeline’s voice was shaky.
Ciaran looked at her without a response. Madeline looked at Doctor Thomas, knowing how weird she sounded.
“Don’t worry, Madeline. I’ve worked for the LeBlancs for more than thirty years, and I’ve heard some very unusual things,” Doctor Thomas commented.
“All right,” Ciaran compromised, “how long do you need?”
“Three hours.”
“I don’t have three hours. I have to be in France for an important meeting this afternoon.”
“Two hours then.”
“Twenty minutes
