That did not sit in Gretel's stomach easily. Not at all.
"What's wrong?" she asked, before thinking about the concern in her voice. She shifted in her lean, stilling the bright red metal canister with one boot, then picked it up. Whatever this thing was certainly didn't fit in the cabinet she remembered. Her eyes swung toward Emma.
"Is it because your...stuff? You can't concentrate?" Sure, she understood being distracted by sleep deprivation and worry, but this had the potential to become a pretty immediate problem.