It's been a shock but perversely it hasn't come as a surprise that victims of the Troubles have been on the receiving end of yet another devastating and shameful blow.
Thousands of people whose lives were torn asunder by the violence of the past have now found themselves back at the end of the queue after the promise of a Troubles pension for them was snatched away at the last minute.
Applications for the long delayed financial help they so desperately need were due to open in five days' time.
But now, all too predictably, the door has slammed shut again.
The problem is that Stormont and Westminster can't decide who's picking up the estimated £100m bill.
Secretary of State Brandon Lewis said that it was down to Stormont to fund the scheme, saying it was agreed as part of the budget the Executive have.
Not so, said First Minister Arlene Foster, who has insisted that the Treasury and not the Executive must pay and she argued that as the pension plan was passed by MPs at Westminster at a time when Stormont wasn't operating, London should be responsible for it.
The public spat has been made all the more unbecoming when you consider that we're talking victims here who have been ignored for decades. Victims who aren't getting any younger.
This might also sound distasteful but I've been saying it for years because it's long been my contention that the authorities have been biding their time in tackling legacy issues in the expectation that the people most affected by the Troubles are getting older.
One government official told me years ago that the legacy issue wouldn't be around forever.
Sadly, what I think he meant was that the people in the middle of it, the injured victims, wouldn't be around forever.
Only last month, I heard that an elderly woman I know who has been nursing a broken heart for nigh on 40 years after she was injured in a bomb attack and lost two loved ones in the Troubles had passed away six months ago, and there wasn't a word about her in the papers.
A friend of her's who might have let me know at the time of her death said he didn't think anyone would have been interested in hearing about her and there was no one left in her family to give permission for a story to be written.
Obviously the coronavirus pandemic has helped to relegate the Northern Ireland legacy question to an afterthought in some quarters. And when you consider the scale of the financial implications of Covid-19, not to mention the death toll, it's hard not to appreciate why priorities might be elsewhere.
But with billions being spent to cope with the horrors of the pandemic, £100 million for a Troubles pension suddenly doesn't sound too much to ask.
Worryingly, it's also revealed that there's no framework in place yet to operate the pensions scheme if and when it does get off the ground.
Eighteen months ago, I was at the launch of a photographic exhibition of victims mounted by the WAVE trauma centre.
Their patron, actor James Nesbitt, advocated the establishment of a pensions plan and said something had to be done "before it's too late".
That was 18 months ago.
And the victims are still waiting.