Chapter 12 Grandpa

• 'How dare he hit me? I can't believe it!' As I dismiss the unread messages, one from that detestable blonde catches my eye, demanding I return because she's leaving. Who do they take me for? No, this ends now, Isabella. You don't have to tolerate anyone. I'd rather be penniless than be with Luis again, let alone kowtow to Dad!
• Dad would have a premonition that Luis would resort to violence, so he would threaten Luis on the day of the dinner. Should I call him? Inform Dad?Would he consent to my divorce? No, don't be absurd, Isabella. Dad is under Mum's thumb; it was her idea to marry me off to Luis, not his. That jailbird was right; Dad is wrapped around Mum's finger. It's best to leave and not tell a soul, to start anew, far from everyone.
• Upon discovering the kitchen bereft of food, save for a lone bottle of chilled water in the fridge, I grab my bag and wallet. Relief washes over me as I confirm there's enough for a coffee and some basic groceries. Perhaps Grandfather could wire some money, but which card, Isabella? I don't have any, and he'll surely insist on delivering it in person. I can't deceive him; he's bound to uncover the truth sooner rather than later. Preferably later, once the bruises have faded somewhat.