10
"Isabella," said the Doctor in a low voice, when he reached her. "News?"
Isabella blinked, but then she smiled slightly. "No," she said, tossing her hair back. "I'm here for parents' evening."
The Doctor felt his face pale. Oh dear, he though frantically. Oh my God, how was this going to work? He never talked to people's parents. He wasn't a parent person.
"So," he croaked. "I have to talk to your mum and dad?"
"Just my dad," said Isabella absently, obviously looking for him as she scanned the room.
Concentrating on his own worries, the Doctor didn't notice the note of panic in Isabella's. He snorted instead – she had acted like that might make it better. That was far worse! It was just going to be awkward. He sat down at his desk, Isabella across from him. He didn't look at her, but at the table, worried. When he heard footsteps approaching, he didn't look up until Isabella spoke.
"I'm sorry, Doctor," she whispered.
It was a second before he realised she was speaking in High Gallifreyan.
Slowly, he looked up, more than worried how. She wouldn't meet his gaze, but kept staring behind him, but something told him he didn't want to look around. But then he heard a voice.
"I see you've met my daughter," said the Master.