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Chapter 11
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2024-12-06 16:45:27Abigail
“Abigail’s right.”
Conrad’s agreement caught me off guard, so much so that I almost didn’t believe my ears. The surprise must have shown on my face, but I quickly masked it.
Apparently, Susanna didn’t believe her ears as well, as her face twisted into a picture of wounded disbelief. She looked as if she'd just been betrayed by her most loyal supporter.
“What?” she said, her voice high-pitched.
“Abigail’s right,” he repeated firmly, turning to Susanna with a seriousness that had only been directed at me before and never her. “Harry is at an age where recklessness can lead to disaster. What if it had been y
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AbigailThe house was quiet when I heard the soft creak of the door to the game room opening.Conrad stepped into the room, his tie loosened and his jacket draped over one arm. His face was shadowed with exhaustion, but there was something else there—maybe remorse? He hovered near the doorway, looking at me as though he wasn’t sure if he was welcome.“You’re up,” he said softly, his voice carrying a note of surprise. I don’t know why he would be so surprised. It was almost ten at night and he hadn’t been home. How could I sleep?I shrugged, placing another card down on the table. “ How come you're back? Don't you need to stay with Susanna?”He hesitated for a moment before stepping closer, his movements uncertain. “After all this, you must need me. I just want to make sure you're okay. Abigail... earlier today, at the station—were you hurt?”The question caught me off guard. “No,” I said simply, “I’m fine.”Conrad exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Good. Harry’s be
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AbigailThe robins outside my window chirped cheerfully as I got out of bed and stretched my tired body, but I was immune to their happiness. It was as if ice had settled over my heart as I realized Conrad was still not home. My night had been full of restless sleep and scattered thoughts, and now, as I padded toward the kitchen to make a cup of tea, the sharp ring of the study phone cut through the quiet.It rang once. Twice. No one answered.With a sigh, I turned toward the study. Conrad usually never left the house this early without checking in, but he wasn’t here now. Pushing the door open, I crossed the room and picked up the receiver.“Hello?” I said, clearing my throat so I didn’t sound sleepy.The man on the other end exhaled audibly, relief clear in his tone. “Thank goodness, someone answered. This is Daniel. Are you Abigail? Do you know where Mr. Conrad Remington is? I’ve been trying to reach Mr. Conrad all night on an urgent matter, but he hasn’t returned any of my calls to
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AbigailMarcy’s expression didn’t falter, and for a moment, I wondered if Liliana had promised her something.Liliana sighed like the drama queen she was turning out to be. “This is a misunderstanding, I’m sure. Why don’t we calm down and figure out where the jewelry is?”“Don’t patronize me,” I snapped. “This isn’t a misunderstanding. It’s manipulation.”“Abigail,” Conrad said, his voice low, “let’s not escalate this.”I rounded on him. “Are you seriously questioning me right now? After everything?”“I just—” He hesitated, running a hand through his hair.“You’re right to hesitate,” I said sharply. “Because if you side with them, Conrad, I will not forgive you.”I leveled a mocking glance at Liliana. She stood there as if this entire charade wasn’t her doing. The anger in the chest begged for release, and I let it fist my words with venom. “Is this what you wanted, Liliana?” I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “To embarrass me like this? Tell me, was this little performance Susan
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Abigail****Marceline’s fork paused midair, and she looked at Conrad with an arched brow. “Well,” she said, setting her silverware down with practiced grace. “If you insist.”But the conversation didn’t die there. Marceline switched topics easily and launched into a tale about her close friend Penelope and her heartbreak over her children’s refusal to settle down.“Imagine,” Marceline said, her voice carrying an undercurrent of disapproval, “both the boy and the girl, as successful as they are, are nearing forty and still have no spouses. No grandchildren. It’s shameful, really. I told her just the other day how fortunate I am that my Alexander and Conrad never gave me such grief.”I forced a smile, nodding in hopes of keeping the conversation alive. “Penelope must be worried,” I offered, my voice carrying the pity I knew my mother-in-law would want to hear.“She is,” Marceline agreed with a dramatic sigh, launching into more details. She was particularly fixated on how Penelope’s dau
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AbigailThe next morning, I dressed quickly and headed straight to the police station. I didn’t tell anyone where I was going; I didn’t need any interruptions. At the station, I requested to speak with the officers who had been called to the house. It took some convincing, but eventually, they agreed to sit down with me. After I’d explained my desire to see the progress they had made with the case, one of the officers – Lieutenant Barnes – was surprisingly cooperative after he’d heard me out.He took a folder from the other officer and slid it across the table to me. “We’ve made some progress,” he said. “First, the jewelry didn’t have your fingerprints on it.”I frowned. “Jus
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Abigail****For a second, I said nothing, my heart pounding. That wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. Conrad had given me that jewelry set as his recognition of all my sacrifices. All my hard work. He’d said so himself. The audacity of her words left me speechless. But I wouldn’t let her twist this to her favor.“You’re pathetic Susanna,” I said finally, my voice steady. “Even now, is all you can do lie?”She stood up abruptly, her face red with anger. Her head tilted as she let out a mocking laugh, the kind that made my skin crawl. “Why would I go through all that trouble, Abigail? What could I possibly gain from this ridiculous scheme?”The room felt like it had shrunk in the suffocating silence following Susanna’s scornful words. I stood there, gripping the file from the police station tightly against my chest. The implications of her words looped in my mind.I opened my mouth to reply, but she cut me off, her face suddenly flushed either from the effort of lying so brazenly or from some
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AbigailSusanna ended the call with a smug smile, turning her attention back to me.“Oh, did you want to talk to him?” she asked, faking surprise. “Sorry about that.” She offered a mock apology, her tone so insincere it made my blood boil.Then, with her nose in the air, she sauntered out of the room, leaving me standing there, gripping the file from the police station in one hand and my phone in the other so tightly my knuckles turned white.My anger felt like a living, breathing thing, threatening to consume me. How dare Conrad do this? How dare he treat me like this? How dare he give me something Susanna had rejected, knowing fully well how I felt about her? My mind replayed every slight, every instance where I’d felt pushed aside or overshadowed since Susanna moved in.As I wrestled with my emotions, Marceline stepped into the room, her expression searching. From the apologetic look in her eyes, it was clear she’d overheard everything.“Abigail,” she began gently, placing a hand o
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Abigail Liam moved closer, his shoulders shaking, his face wet with tears. His eyes were desperate as he reached out, trying to wrap his arms around me in an embrace. I turned my body away, just enough to avoid him. His arms hung in the air for a second before he let them drop. He sniffled loudly, his breath coming in short, unsteady bursts. I swallowed hard, forcing down the emotions rushing through me. “Liam,” I said quietly, my voice steadier than I expected. “That man you saw speaking with Marceline and Conrad, who was he?” Liam wiped his face roughly, blinking at me in confusion. “I told you already,” he mumbled. “I don’t know.” I didn’t believe him. Maybe he didn’t have a name, but Liam wasn’t stupid. He had spent time around Aaron, the man who had led him into this mess. There was no way he hadn’t overheard something, some kind of detail that could clue me in. I narrowed my eyes. “Liam, think.” He shook his head, his movements jerky. “I...I don’t know anything
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Abigail I couldn't take it anymore. Everything Liam had said so far, every word, had been an excuse. I hadn’t wanted to say it, had tried to keep my emotions in check, but the words slipped past my lips before I could stop them. “All of this… all of it, Liam, is just you making excuses.” Liam’s eyes widened slightly, as if he hadn’t expected me to say that. But I couldn’t stop now. “You’ve told me about the gambling, the debts, the deals you made, but you still haven’t explained why you helped Susanna hurt me. Your own sister.” My voice shook with anger and hurt. “And what about Mom, Liam? You haven’t even mentioned her. Haven’t even said her name. Do you even care that we still don't know where she is?” I swallowed hard, my chest rising and falling quickly. “And you haven’t even apologized,” I whispered, shaking my head. “Not once.” Liam stared at me after my outburst, something dark and ugly flashing in his eyes. His hands clenched into fists. Then, in an instant, he
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Abigail "I hope you mean that," Alexander said, taking a step towards the bed. Liam’s hands shook as he nodded, his fingers curling into the bedsheets. I held my breath, bracing myself, knowing whatever came next wouldn’t be easy to hear. “When did it really start?” Alexander pressed, his voice firm. “The gambling, the drugs… they didn’t just start when you met Marceline, did they? You’d already been sinking long before that.” Liam swallowed hard, guilt flashing in his bloodshot eyes. He lowered his head. “No. It started before.” I exhaled slowly, a bitter weight settling in my chest. Liam squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, as if steeling himself, before speaking again. “It started with...Conrad.” I stiffened at the name, my hands clenching in my lap. Just the mention of his name sent a flash of anger down my spine. “The first time I asked him for money, I was hesitant,” Liam admitted. “I knew you already felt indebted to him for helping with Mom’s hospital bills, Bee
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Abigail The facility Liam was being kept in was called Ridgeway Wellness Center, and if I hadn’t known better, I would have thought we had pulled up to a luxury retreat rather than a rehabilitation center. The building itself was discreet, modern but not flashy, and clearly designed to blend in rather than draw attention. Even the entrance was unassuming, hidden behind a row of neatly trimmed trees, giving the impression of privacy. I had half-expected Alexander to stash Liam away in some run-down place, somewhere fitting for a man who had made so many mistakes, but he hadn’t. He had brought him here. It must be my imagination that my eyes were burning as we stepped inside. The lobby was bright, clean, and quiet. The soft scent of antiseptic mixed with something fresher, like lavender, filled the air. A nurse stood at the reception desk, a man in his forties with neatly combed hair and a professional but friendly demeanor. He looked up as we entered, and immediately, something in h
