"...the bank!" Rita says. Leah grimaces. "Oh, don't worry, they keep treats on hand for little ones like you."
Leah doesn't care about getting a "treat". She cares about being stuck in line for who knows how long, and probably farting the entire time.
But she's helpless to do anything as they park at the bank and Rita brings her inside. She props Leah on her hip, but remarks that if she had a stroller or carrier, Leah would go in that.
As Leah feared, there's a long line. And it's moving glacially slow. Farts continue to escape from her, though they gradually begin to slow down. Every minute becomes every few minutes. Even though Leah is glad her digestive system seems to be settling down, she's still humiliated. The bank is dead silent. The loudest sound is her.
"Does your daughter need a change?" asks the person in front of them. Rita adjusts her grip on Leah, which causes another series of farts to escape.
"Niece. And no, not yet. She's being a gassy girl today. But I get the feeling she'll be making me a present in her pants before long."
Leah's bowels rumble. Multiple enormous farts explode from her in rapid succession. Her eyes widen as she realizes that a small amount of poop exited with the last one. Rita is right.
Hopefully, she can hold it until they get home. She's stuck in diapers, yes, but it's less embarrassing to use them in private than in public.