Shame crippled her in the back of the police car. She wanted to get out of there, wanted to run, so fast, at the first chance she got. It didn't matter that there was no chance. Her mind was telling her to get out of there, screamingly repeating get out get out get out get out so she could barely think of anything else, barely respond to anything else.
Barely. She still had room for resentment. She should have been more careful. She should have remembered to hide the bill. That god damn credit card bill. And anger - she had room for anger. She was so angry at Imogene for finding it, so angry at her father for marrying Imogene, so angry. Imogene shouldn't even have an emergency credit card if she didn't want people to spend it. It was just money. Imogene has so much money! She was only using this as an excuse to get rid of Rachel. Imogene was a bitch, a hellish bitch, a hellish monster bitch.
( ... )
Barely. She still had room for resentment. She should have been more careful. She should have remembered to hide the bill. That god damn credit card bill. And anger - she had room for anger. She was so angry at Imogene for finding it, so angry at her father for marrying Imogene, so angry. Imogene shouldn't even have an emergency credit card if she didn't want people to spend it. It was just money. Imogene has so much money! She was only using this as an excuse to get rid of Rachel. Imogene was a bitch, a hellish bitch, a hellish monster bitch.
( ... )