Soma nodded. "Stomachache," she said, glancing at Leanne to see if the same was true for her. "I didn't have one yesterday. And after last night..."

She paused. "Have you seen the bulletin board? What everyone's been saying about a possible cure?"

This was probably a terrible direction for the conversation to go in, since it was only sure to tell her what she already knew: that the surgery was ill-advised and probably more life-threatening than the illness itself. Still, if Leanne didn't know about it, she had a right to.