Isabel Rivers never really had a safe place to land. That was before she met queen bee Alison DiLaurentis. She was Ali's favorite. They also had four other friends. It was the perfect group.
Right until Ali went missing one summer.
And turned up...
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"I was so comfortable kicking my drug habit." -Spencer Hastings
Isabel came home after a few days at rehab. She was helping Spencer unpack.
"Sorry you had to go through that," Spencer scoffed as she pulled out her things. "I didn't ask for you to come-"
"I know," Isabel nodded. "I went there of my own free will."
Spencer whirled around and stared at her.
"You went there because you wanted to?" she asked incredulously.
"Yeah, my alcohol addiction got way out of hand," Isabel sighed. "Toby gave me the reminder that I needed, and I don't regret a second that I spent in rehab."
"Wow, you're, like, the strongest person I've met," Spencer said, folding her jacket.
"No, actually, I'm not," Isabel laughed bitterly. "If I was strong, I would've just gone to rehab in the first place, or at least gotten therapy, instead of trashing my life and the lives of those around me."
"Isabel, I wouldn't-" Spencer began, but there was a knock on her door.
"Hey," Mrs. Hastings smiled, walking in.
"Hi," Spencer replied, looking up.
"Anything for the dry cleaners?" Mrs. Hastings asked.
"It was 3 days in rehab, Mom," Spencer scoffed as she pulled out a sweatshirt. "I really did not need so many sweaters."
"I thought, I don't know, maybe you'd go outside for some fresh air or if you got cold," Mrs. Hastings shrugged, looking over at Isabel, who was sitting on Spencer's bed.
"I did get cold and then I got the sweats," Spencer snapped. "You know, withdrawal symptoms can't really be stopped with a cable knit."
"They said that the medical detox would help mitigate your discomfort," Mrs. Hastings went on.
"It did, mom," Spencer huffed. "I was so comfortable kicking my drug habit." Both Isabel and Mrs. Hastings stared at her. "Sorry. I'm very irritable. They said to expect irritability over the next few days."
"As long as you're home and well, I can handle it," Mrs. Hastings nodded. Spencer smiled bitterly and resumed picking up sweaters. She suddenly stiffened, staring at something only she could see. "Is there anything you need? There's left-over carbonara or I can make a salad if you'd like something lighter. You can eat, too, if you'd like, Isabel."
"Sure," Isabel smiled. "Thank you, Mrs. Hastings." She looked over at Spencer, who was staring off into nowhere. "You look tired." Spencer didn't respond. "Spencer?"
"Hm?" Spencer blinked, turning to her.
"I said you look tired," Isabel repeated as Mrs. Hastings glanced at her nervously.
