Will and Testament // Sequel to the Rosie Grey series

Chapter Twenty-Three

When we arrived home, I went up to my room as fast as my ankle would allow me but still trying not to show that it hurt. Father hadn't said anything else during the ride to the house and for once I was grateful for his stony silence. Before it would have been a sign that something was wrong or that I was in trouble, these days I was always in trouble and the silence was a welcomed relief from the lectures.

Upstairs, I changed out of my school dress and sat on the edge of my, untying the laces of my boots. The leather still sat too close to my ankle to the point that it hurt even if I hadn't just run up the stairs. Slowly, I inched my boot off my ankle and let it fall to the ground with a light thud. Once the boot was off, I removed my stockings but I had to be extra careful around my ankle so I didn't knock it accidentally.

My ankle has a slight purple tinge to it, almost like a bruise had started to form because of how I rolled it coming down the stairs. The bruised area of my foot looks at least double the size it should be, making my ankle and foot look fat. I huffed and removed my other boot and stocking to compare my ankles to each other. My right ankle, the one I rolled coming down the stairs, is definitely bigger than it should be and I know if I didn't wear my boots, Father would notice.

I pulled my stockings back on and then slipped my good foot into my boot. The next bit would be the hardest one as I slowly slid my right foot into my boot, sinking my teeth into my lip so I wouldn't make a sound at the pain that coursed through my leg. Father would no doubt tell me off if he knew I was putting my boot on over a sprained ankle, but he didn't know and I had no intention of telling him. I would deal with it on my own.

"Miss Isabel," Helen said, drumming lightly on my door, "supper is ready."

"Alright, thank you, Helen." My voice shook a little from the pain that had started to subside after I jammed my foot into my boot. I hoped Helen didn't notice.

I limped across the room, using everything within my reach to help move me forward so I didn't put too much weight on my ankle. It didn't help much because the pressure on my ankle from the boot was enough to keep a dull throb going and every step I took turned that dull throb into a wave of pain. Still, I bit back the pain as best I could and made my way down the stairs with the help of the bannister. It didn't matter as much if I limped down the stairs since no one saw me, but the moment I reached the hallway I'd have to put weight on my ankle.

The first step in the hallway almost caused my entire leg to buckle and I had to grab onto the bannister to stop myself from falling over. I don't think anyone heard anything since no one came out into the hall or even asked if I was alright. There would be no way of avoiding the pain so I grit my teeth, push off from the bannister and try to ignore the pain as I walk into the dining hall.

No one said anything when I walked into the room so I assumed my acting skills were at least mediocre enough for people to believe me. The moment I sat down felt like a welcomed relief, even if the pain did remain. I would have to find a way to deal with my ankle because ignoring it certainly didn't seem to be working.

"So, Izzy, what's this school work that causes you to stay after school?" Mother asked, her tone remarkably formal for supper time conversation. I suppose the tension in the room makes a usual conversation impossible.

"Oh, we're having a debate on Friday." I stabbed a carrot with my fork.

"A debate? On what?"

"Whether women should have the right to vote. I'm arguing for, Mildred is against."

"Do you need any help? It sounds like an excellent topic and one I am sure you'll excel at."

"I think Evelyn and I have it covered, the conversation came up on Saturday when we were out with her sister so I think we have everything we need."