“Look at the state of you,” Mark snapped, glowering at my friend. “What the fuck kind of costume is that?” “He’s an egg,” Claire defended, making a beeline for Gerard. “And I’m a chicken.” “He’s a dickhead is what he is,” Mark muttered. “Leave him alone,” Caoimhe admonished, elbowing his side when she joined him on the couch. “He’s only a child.” Gibsie’s eyes flicked to Mark before focusing on Claire. “Are you okay?”
