Leah rocked her head from side to side as if giving Vienna's question some serious thought. “Easy. They won't know they're being blamed.” She tried to maintain a straight face, but failed. They both knew she didn't so much blame them as thank them for leveling her temper. “No, it's not awful. It's bad when it comes to giving orders, though, but it's a small price to pay.”
“I suppose so,” she agreed, one corner of her mouth turning up into a smile. “I mean, I have my curious phases and if I feel like I need to know something, I'll ask, but for the most part I've never really been the nosy type. If someone wants to tell me something, like whenever you want to talk, I'm happy to listen, but otherwise I don't like to pry.”
Vienna insisted on taking her to the infirmary. Caught in the panic of the moment, Leah hated the insistence and didn't want to listen, but deep down she was grateful someone with a level head was helping her, making her do something that was needed. It didn't help that flashes of memories kept popping into her head; memories of the day the zombie attacked her and Marigold was taken away. Unable to answer with words at the moment, Leah bobbed her head, agreeing that she needed to go to the infirmary.
“Maybe you should text the medics. Let them know we're coming,” Leah suggested, her voice shaky and strained. As slowly as she knew their pace would be, the infirmary seemed a million miles away. Maybe they wouldn't even make it. Maybe the medics would have to meet them halfway. “And Evan. I want Evan.” She didn't want to have to do this without him.