"B-Brother, I… I-I-I…" Lucien stammered, eyes darting side to side as everyone stared.
He looked like a trapped animal, standing under too many eyes, with no place left to run.
And then suddenly his eyes lit up with an idea.
He clutched his stomach and bent over, letting out a loud, dramatic wail. "AHHHH! My stomach! Mom! Mom! It hurts so bad—take me to the healer! I think it's serious!"
Elira gasped and rushed to his side like it was all real. "Oh, my poor baby!" she cried, immediately wrapping her arms around him. "Don't worry, my dear—we're going to the healer right now!"
She turned her head sharply toward Karl, her fake tears suddenly back. "We'll be back, Karl! We're taking your brother to the healer!" she shouted like it was some kind of moral victory.
And without giving anyone a chance to question it, they grabbed Lucien by his arms and hurried off down the path, robes fluttering behind them like they were escaping a play gone wrong.
