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She jammed some clothes and shoes in a bag, grabbed her keys, and was almost out her door when she stopped.
“Shit.”
She turned around and ran back into the bathroom. She’d almost forgotten her anti-depressants. She grabbed the pill bottle from the medicine cabinet. Had she even taken them today? With as fucked up as her moods had been lately, the last thing she needed was to be screwing with her medication.
She unscrewed the lid and poured one of the small pills into her hand. Not that it was helping much. She’d been so stable for years and then for it to all go down the shitter so drastically—
She reached for a glass of water and as she did, she knocked the bottle of pills over, spilling them out on the counter.
“Fuck!” She did not have time for this. Had Catrina already called the cops?
But as she started scooping the little pills back into the bottle, she paused. Some of them didn’t look right.
A bunch of the tablets had a little line down the middle where you could split them in half if you needed to. But about half of them didn’t have the line.
“What the hell?”
She reached down and flipped one of the non-lined pills over, thinking maybe they were just lined on one side.
But nope, the lined ones were lined on both sides and others were smooth on both sides.
Isobel’s eyes flipped back and forth between the two pills, nothing making sense for a long moment.
But like downstairs, it eventually dawned on her and she swung in the direction of her door. The same killing fury as earlier made her fists shake all over again.
“Bitch!” she screamed.
It would have served Catrina right if Isobel hadn’t stopped earlier. She’d been fucking with Isobel’s medication in addition to adding the protein powder to her smoothies?
Isobel’s hand shook as she swept all the pills back into the bottle. Had Catrina switched out half her meds with sugar pills so she’d only be taking half her regular dosage? Or were they something worse? Something meant to make her moods more volatile?
Catrina was a vicious hell-whore, that was all Isobel knew.
She stared at the pill bottle.
It was evidence.
For once she had evidence. It wasn’t just Catrina’s word against hers.
Then she started laughing hysterically.
Because no, that wasn’t true. This wasn’t any different than it had ever been. What did Isobel have? A bottle of some unknown pills? With her luck, Catrina would get her booked on assault and possession for whatever the hell was in this bottle. After all, there was nothing tying the pills to Catrina. Did Isobel think she’d find Catrina’s fingerprints on the bottle or something?
Even if she did, that was hardly a smoking gun. Catrina could just say that she’d picked up the bottle from the pharmacy for her stepdaughter, so of course her fingerprints were on it.
Isobel was well and truly fucked. She hiccupped, something between a laugh and a sob. Her hands shook as she pushed her hair out of her face.
Back to the original plan. Get the hell out of here.
And go where, exactly?
Fuck knew. She’d figure that part out later.
She ran to the other room and picked up the bag she’d haphazardly stuffed full of clothes and her purse. On a whim, she also grabbed her riding boots from her closet since the time she’d been happiest in her life was when she’d worked in the stables near their house in New Hampshire. She clutched it all to her chest as she ran down the stairs and out the back door.
Catrina hadn’t been anywhere in sight, thank God.
Isobel ran toward her little Toyota parked in their narrow garage. Her hands were trembling so badly, it took her three tries to get her key in the lock. She finally managed. She jumped in the car. A few seconds later, she had it in reverse and was peeling out onto the street.
