That evening, when Gretchen brought the small paper cup with the two blue pills, Victoria was ready.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” Victoria murmured, taking the cup. “I just want to sleep.”
“A wise choice, Mrs. Croft,” Gretchen said, watching her hawk-like.
Victoria tossed the pills into her mouth and swallowed a gulp of water. She opened her mouth to show Gretchen it was empty. Satisfied, the nurse turned off the light and locked the door from the outside.
The moment the footsteps faded, Victoria rushed to the en-suite bathroom. She gagged herself, spitting the dissolving pills into the toilet and flushing them away.
She washed her face with cold water, shaking off the lingering haze from the morning dose. She went to the bottom drawer of the dresser, beneath the stacks of onesies. She pulled out the burner phone she had taped to the underside of the drawer–a failsafe Marcus Thorne had insisted upon months ago.
She dialed Dominic.
“Victoria?” His voice was sharp with worry.
“Tonight,” she whispered, watching the rain lash against the window. “The storm is getting worse. The cameras won’t pick up much in the heavy rain. I’m climbing out the trellis.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Dominic argued. “Wait for me to get the legal injunction lifted.”
“I can’t wait,” Victoria said, her hand on her stomach. “They are erasing me, Dominic. If I don’t leave tonight, I won’t wake up tomorrow.”
“I’m on my way,” Dominic vowed.