Chapter 88: Sick

EMMA

We ate in silence. Or rather, Noah ate, and I poked at the food in front of me, which included breaded eggplant, despite my request. At least there wasn't any cheese on top, so I was able to try some of the pasta and sauce. My stomach was rebelling, though; between the audience around us, the tension of our conversation and the food issues, I wasn't feeling well at all. I'd just managed to choke down a few bites when Noah tossed down his fork onto his plate with a clatter.

"Fuck!" he muttered, staring out the window. "I was afraid of that."

"What is it?" I was afraid to look outside. "What's wrong?"

"That woman from the bar-she said she saw us on social media. So did some reporters, I guess, because there's a group of them at the door to the restaurant."

Any appetite I'd had disappeared. "What are we going to do?"

Noah shook his head. "I guess we'll have to just get through them and say no comment. Once we get home, we'll be all right. I think so, anyway." He was quiet f