Abigail The elevator ride down was silent. I barely registered the soft chime announcing each floor as we descended, nor the polished steel doors reflecting my pale face back at me. My mind was spinning, turning over the name Ravenbrook like a stone in my palm, searching for familiarity in its edges and weight. Where had I heard it before? It clung to me, refusing to let go, like a whisper just out of reach. Beside me, Alexander stood still, his hands in his pockets, but I could feel his gaze lingering on me. He was watching me closely. I wasn’t sure if it was concern or curiosity at my quietness, but I had no space in my mind to dwell on it. I could only focus on Ravenbrook. There was something stirring in my memory, faint but persistent. By the time we stepped into the hospital’s lobby and moved toward the parking lot, my hands had curled into fists. The answer was there. I could feel it. I slid into the passenger seat of Alexander’s car, fastening my seatbelt automatica
Abigail It had been hours since Alexander and I arrived at Ravenbrook, since I had first stepped into this decrepit house with my heart pounding and my hopes soaring against my better judgment. I had been so sure. After hearing Liam say the name, and seeing the terror on his face when he whispered it, I had believed with every part of me that my mother would be here. That I would find her at last. That all of this suffering, all of the waiting, all of the agonizing weeks spent wondering if she was alive or dead, had been leading to this moment. And yet, all I had to show for my hope was nothing. No signs of life. No whispers of her presence. No misplaced object, no forgotten article of clothing, no single trace that a woman who had once been the most important person in my world had ever been here at all. I had searched everywhere. The bedrooms, the bathrooms, the library, the study. I had torn through dusty closets, rummaged through abandoned drawers, even pressed my hand agai
Susanna I stirred awake to the sound of slow, rhythmic breathing beside me, the weight of an arm slung over my waist. My head felt thick with exhaustion, my limbs sore in ways I didn’t care to think about. For a long moment, I lay still, staring at the ceiling of the garish motel room, the golden swirls on red wallpaper filling me with distaste. Where am I? The question drifted through my half-conscious mind before memory came rushing back, hitting me like a slap to the face. Oh. Right. Disgust twisted my expression. I shoved the arm off me, wincing at the soreness in my lower back as I sat up. The movement jostled the man beside me, and he made a groggy sound before blinking awake. He turned his head towards me, his lips stretching into a lazy, leering grin. "Mm," he hummed, eyes roaming over my body, shameless despite the crust of sleep still clinging to his lashes. "You haven’t lost your touch, sweetheart. If anything, you’re even better than before." I scowled, n
Abigail The man who had leaned against the statue stumbled back, waving away dust with one hand as he coughed. A thick cloud filled the air, and I instinctively raised my arm to cover my nose and mouth. The statue of the Virgin Mary had crumbled like a sandcastle, revealing something hidden under it. As the dust settled, Alexander stepped closer, his expression sharpening with concern and curiosity. Where the statue once stood, there was now a gaping hole, the jagged edges of stone framing what looked like a concealed door. The wood was so moldy and blackened with age that it barely looked like wood at all. There was no handle, just a small opening where fingers could slip in and pull. Alexander reached for it. Something in me screamed for him to stop. I don’t know why. Maybe I already knew, deep down, what was waiting behind that door. But he pulled it open anyway, grunting as a laboring creak filled the air. The first thing I noticed was the stench. It was putrid, suffocatin
Alexander The moment I pulled open the door hidden under the base of the statue of the Virgin Mary, the scent of decay hit me like a punch to the gut.No, that wasn’t quite right. I had smelled it the moment I stepped into the manor of the estate. That deep, cloying stench of something long past its time, something that should have been laid to rest but had been left to fester instead. But I had ignored it. Or rather, I had hoped, prayed even, that it was nothing more than the rot of an abandoned estate.I never thought we would find a body. But there she was.I barely had time to register the sight of the corpse before I heard Abigail’s sharp gasp behind me. I moved without thinking, shoving the door closed and stepping in front of it, using my body as a shield as if I could somehow erase what she had just seen. But it was too late.She had seen, and she knew. I didn’t need to hear her say it to understand. I had already reached the same conclusion—the same horrible, gut-wrenching
Conrad This was wrong. All wrong. I took a slow sip of my whiskey, trying to let the burn of it distract me, but it didn’t work. The woman in front of me, the one I had spent a ridiculous amount of money perfecting, stood stiffly, her hands clasped together, head tilted downward like a scolded child. She was supposed to look like my wife. She did, to an extent. The hair, the eyes, even the perfume; those details were correct. But everything else? Off. Her posture was wrong. Abigail didn't carry herself like an 1900's schoolgirl expecting a caning. Abigail never failed to meet my eyes even when I was spitting fire. Her quiet confidence couldn't be taught. This woman? She was trying too hard, and it irritated me. I sighed, rolling the glass between my fingers before setting it down with a dull clink. This would have to do for now. I couldn’t have Abigail yet, but I needed something, someone, to fill the void, and it couldn't be Susanna. At least, not for now. Mother had been s
AbigailThe first thing I felt as I came to was cold. Not just the kind that prickled the skin or made you shiver, but the kind that sank deep into the marrow, slow and consuming. It felt like the chill in the air had seeped into my bones and decided to settle there, like a second skeleton made of frost. I wanted to curl in on myself, but even that movement felt too much. My body was strangely weak.Against the freezing cold, a searing heat pressed against my lips, like fire on ice...someone’s lips? I stirred weakly, and in the hazy waking that followed, I became aware of warm droplets falling onto my cheek. Tears, but they weren’t mine.I opened my eyes.Alexander’s face swam into view above me. His brows were drawn together in anguish, but his eyes lit up with such sudden relief when he saw I was awake, it made my heart twist. There were tears in his eyes, actual tears, and I don’t think he even noticed them until I reached up with trembling fingers and brushed one away.“You’re cry
Abigail“Just wait a little bit,”Alexander continued, his eyes trained on my face. “One of my men will drive you to the hospital for a check up. I’ll join you as soon as I finish up here.” He took one of my shaking hands in his and gave it a gentle squeeze before letting go.The heater’s warmth crawled up my limbs slowly, but it couldn’t seem to reach my chest. I sat quietly in the passenger seat, wrapped tightly in the towel he had draped over me, watching him walk away toward the manor. My fingers, still trembling slightly, clutched the towel closer. The moment he shut the car door, I already missed his presence. It had felt like something I could hold onto, like safety.But then the silence was broken by the low rumble of engines growing louder by the second. I turned just in time to see two sleek black cars screech into the front courtyard, tires groaning in protest. This was the kind of loud entrance only someone li
Liliana I stared down at my lunch, the delicate aroma rising from the bowl doing nothing to stir my appetite. It was my favorite meal, carefully prepared and beautifully plated but today it tasted like nothing more than ash in my mouth, bitter and dry. I set my spoon down with a loud clatter, the sharp sound slicing through the silence of the room. Harry was out playing baseball with his friends, so I was all at home today, which made my annoyance even worse. My chest felt tight, suffocated by a fury I was barely managing to keep contained. How could I eat happily? How could I pretend everything was fine when it wasn’t? I let out a harsh loud breath, pushing my plate aside so forcefully it nearly toppled over the edge of the table. Enough. It had been months of enduring this slow descent into chaos. I had been an angel to tolerate it for this long. What other woman could have withstood the humiliation and the pressure of everything that had been thrown my way lately? First, ther
AbigailI meant to wait until later to tell Alexander about the meeting. I had every intention of acting cool, composed, someone who didn’t need to rush and blurt everything out like an overeager intern.But the second I promised to see Mr. Hayes back at the office and stepped into the elevator and the doors slid shut behind me, all my resolve crumbled. My fingers itched for my phone, and before I knew it, I was pulling it out of my pocket, rapidly typing out a message. I crushed it, I wrote, my heart beating a little too fast. Conrad’s project is dead. You should have seen his face, Alexander. It was glorious.I stared at the screen, grinning like a fool. And then, reality caught up with me.I was being ridiculous. Maybe even downright immature. This wasn’t the dynamic we had. I was supposed to be professional and reliable, not someone who acted like they were texting a secret crush after acing a test. Groaning quietly under my breath, I erased the entire message and typed a much s
AbigailI froze mid-sentence, lifting my head slowly to look at him. He was still at the front of the room, but now his arms were crossed loosely over his chest, a mocking smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.“And here I thought,” he added, dripping with false politeness, “that only those formally invited had something to contribute.”A few people shifted in their seats. A few glanced at me. I could feel the weight of their eyes, the tension coiling in the air.Conrad was trying to embarrass me and put me back in my place.I leaned forward, pressing the button on the microphone in front of me. My voice was cool. “I have nothing to say to you, Mr. Remington.”I started t
AbigailInternally, I whooped and punched the air in victory. But outwardly, I gave Mr. Hayes a serene, practiced smile, the kind that said I'm glad to be here, not desperate to be here. “Thank you again,” I said politely, then stepped out of his office before my excitement bubbled too far to contain.Ten o’clock was only forty minutes away. Not enough time to start anything new, but just enough to make myself useful. I returned to my office, where Elle was already tidying up the documents on my desk.“Anything urgent?” I asked as I approached.She handed me a printed memo and gave me a quick update on a postponed meeting. “Only thing worth noting is
AbigailThe smell of the food filled the entire room, and something about the presence of Alexander beside me dulled the tightness I’d been carrying all day. The tension behind my eyes had started to fade as I picked at the grilled fish, letting the flavors roll across my tongue, my limbs slowly unknotting with every bite.“I’ve been getting calls from Liam,” I said, my voice tired but audible. I didn’t know why I chose now to bring it up; maybe because I finally felt safe enough to say it out loud.Alexander’s hand stilled mid-motion, his chopsticks hovering above the container of scallops. “Liam?” His eyes flicked to mine, sharp. “How long?”I nodded and swallowed. “It’s been a few times now. He says he’s changed and keeps asking to see me.”His brows drew together, and I could see him piecing something together. “He’s been coming to me too and asking to see you.” He paused. “He’s not been released from Ridgewell officially, but this is part of the treatment program; they release so
Abigail I didn’t know where I was going, I just kept driving. One street turned into another and headlights flashed past me in a blur. The city was quietly winding down while something restless stirred in my chest. My fingers were clenched so tight around the steering wheel, they ached. I told myself I would find a hotel. Or maybe I would go to Roxy’s, even though it was too late and she’d worry. But the truth was, I wasn’t thinking clearly at all. I wasn’t thinking at all.I just didn’t want to go home.And somehow, without meaning to, I ended up here. The car rolled to a slow stop in front of the tall, glittering building before I fully realized where I was. I blinked up at it, dazed and slightly breathless, my stomach twisting into an uncomfortable knot. I knew this place; it was the high rise I had met Alexander before we went to Ridgewell to see Liam. The lights shimmered against the glass like stars in a city that forgot what the real ones looked like. But I wasn’t looking at
AbigailAfter work, I found myself walking to the park instead of driving straight home.I told Roxy I’d leave early today, mostly because she looked ready to duct-tape me to my chair if I didn’t. But now that I had, I didn’t know what to do with myself. My body wasn’t worn down enough, and that small sliver of energy still lingering in me made me restless. If I’d had my way, I would’ve stayed in the office till one a.m., working until even my thoughts couldn’t keep up with me anymore. But Roxy had been especially worried lately. So, I’d smiled, packed up, and walked out like someone who had a life waiting for her outside those walls.I didn’t.So, here I was, wandering through the park with my coat still buttoned, my shoes making soft sounds against the path. The air was crisp but not cold, and the faint scent of blooming grass and wet earth filled my lungs. It was peaceful, in a way that made the ache in my chest feel sharper.To my left, I noticed a picnic spread out on a checkered
RoxyAnd yet he always asked as if he had nothing to do with it. As if it wasn’t his driver who opened the door for me, or his expense account that covered the seafood platter I’d been daydreaming about since 3 p.m.I settled in, crossing one leg over the other. What I couldn’t quite wrap my head around what I never could was how a man like Alexander could share even a single drop of blood with someone like Conrad.Conrad Remington, the walking ego. The emotional toddler. Every time I thought about him, it made me want to demand a DNA test on Alexander’s behalf. Maybe they swapped cribs at the hospital. Maybe one of them was adopted. Maybe God just wanted to play a particularly cruel practical joke.Still, why was I thinking about Conrad with what was in front of me?Sitting beside Alexander was one of the most delicious motivations I’d ever had for showing up anywhere on time; Daniel Woods, his secretary. The tall drink of sin I’d been lowkey thirsting over since the first moment I l
RoxyI yawned so hard I swore my jaw cracked. My screen dimmed in front of me, signaling the finality of another day. With a satisfying click, I shut down my computer and sat back in my chair, allowing myself a tiny internal cheer.Done. All of it. Not only had I cleared every task on my to-do list—emails, reports, that ridiculous revision James from Marketing demanded this morning—I had also accomplished the almost-impossible: I’d managed to convince Abigail to leave on time. No 11 p.m. grind, no haunting the office like a lonely ghost with the cleaning crew. She actually packed up and went home like a normal person. That was a victory in itself.I stretched my arms above my head and yawned again, this one longer. All I wanted now was to kick off my heels, boil water for some scandalously sodium rich ramen, and fall asleep in the middle of an episode of Love & Lies: Southside Edition. It was my guilty pleasure, that trashy little reality series with way too many slow motion breakups