Kajsa wasn't allowed alcohol - hadn't been, in fact, for a while - but she needed something to take her mind off the constant gnawing in her arm. She had painkillers, that wasn't the problem. The real problem was that her hand alternated between itching and feeling like lead. She'd tried to mentally trick herself that she was scratching it by closing her eyes and scratching over the cast but that didn't work. She couldn't wait for the cast to come off. Even if it meant physical therapy afterwards. That was going to hurt. Hopefully, they could get the pins out of her arm but the doctor had implied they might need to stay in there for longer. Either way, she was supposed to go in for a full check-up in a few days and she'd find out if anything else was wrong with her then, too. She hoped for her sanity (and for her mother's) that nothing else was. Anyway, the constant itching had brought her to the grocery store to see if there was anything she could get to make herself feel better. Oh. Chocolate.
As she was going down the aisle, arm in a sling and everything, she paused as she noticed a familiar face looking at gummy worms. She hadn't realized she was staring until he addressed her. Kajsa laughed nervously and nodded. That tone of voice. The nagging guilt. Pastor. "Oh, I wasn't judging, Pastor Daniel," Kajsa said with a small laugh laced with lots of guilt. She rubbed the back of her neck with her unbroken hand. "How have you been?" Odd question to ask a pastor. She vaguely remembered having to go to this non-denom a long time ago. While everything about that time in her life (including the place itself) was completely forgettable, the pastor (for some reason) was not. It was weird that Jokull had made them go...especially considering his specialness that Dagmar and the others had inherited...that she had avoided.