She was quiet as she listened to Gabby's instructions, nodding her head before finishing off the last few drinks of milk and putting the glass on the coffee table beside the half-finished toast. "And you really think this will help?" Isobel asked, a bit of hope in her voice, though it was hard to pick out with the absolute sadness that tinged everything about her.
"And... There's one on the foot of my bed." She tilted her head to the side, a hitched little breath escaping her before she made a quiet noise of grief. She was pushing herself up then, almost scrambling for the bathroom to crouch next to the toilet, retching. The thought of the milk, the toast, it had been good as she was eating, but every time she thought of what had happened, her body and soul seemed to want to turn itself inside out. "Sorry... sorry..." she whispered as she coughed, turning her head and resting her cheek on the toilet seat, tears rolling down her cheek.