Alyssana waited.  Walter was like Chris when her brother tried to avoid things, but she knew patience would bring her an answer.  Hopefully it would be a good one, but she could confront Finnegan if that was the option left her.  Fortunately Walter capitulated, going to open the lock.  She wasn't sure if his surprise was genuine, and decided she suspected not.  He wanted out, but sometimes a firm stance was needed.

And then the potion was safely in her hands, or so she thought.  Finnegan burst into the room, trying to take the vial from her.  He stumbled, fumbled, knocked her hand.  She lost her grip on the vial, and while she was fast enough to get herself out of the way of the spill, Finnegan was not.

Alys's eyes were wide, her mouth an O of surprise and just a bit of horror.  She never would have deliberately chosen this path, and yet...in a way, it served Finnegan right.  "Well then," she managed.  "Finnegan, are you quite alright?"  Perhaps, immersed in the perfume business as he was, he'd built up a tolerance to his own products.  And she had to admit that she was worried -- if a few sprays could so affect Miss Ashton, what would a dose like this wreak?