Before Isla could set down her fork, her face twisted with real pain.
A sharp, deep ache radiated up her leg, like she'd been jabbed with something solid. Her leg actually trembled from the force of it.
Bianca held nothing back with that one.
"Um, my stomach's acting up a bit, I need to run to the bathroom, sorry." Isla's eyes went glassy, genuine discomfort showing through even as she forced a smile to keep from giving anything away.
"Excuse me." She pushed her chair back, set down her utensils, braced a hand on the table, and dragged herself toward the restroom, doing her best to make the limp look casual. It wasn't easy, her still-healing ankle, combined with a fresh strike to her shin, left both legs unsteady.
She could feel someone's sharp gaze fixed on her back the whole walk.
