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Chapter 12
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2024-12-07 16:45:05Abigail
The house was quiet when I heard the soft creak of the door to the game room opening. I glanced up from the stack of cards I’d been sorting through, an old and forgotten deck I had owned since I was a pimply teenager in high school. It was a poor distraction, one I had tried to use to take my mind off things after returning from the fiasco at the police station. The repetitive shuffle and placement of the cards had offered a shred of calm that I couldn’t find anywhere else.
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 voic
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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&md
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AbigailThe air in the room shifted the moment Marceline entered. Her presence commanded the kind of attention no one dared ignore. She stood there, sharp and commanding, her gaze sweeping over us like a storm about to break. Her eyes landed on Liliana, lingering with the kind of intensity that could make even the boldest person stop in their tracks. Marceline’s lips pressed into a thin line as she turned to Conrad."And who, may I ask, is this?" she demanded, her voice cutting through the tense silence.Conrad cleared his throat, stepping forward. “Th Mother, this is Liliana. She’s Susanna’s sister and—”Marceline cut him off with a sharp wave of her hand, her gaze never leaving Liliana. “I
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AbigailMarceline’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 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.”
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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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AbigailFor 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 pet
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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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AbigailAs I stepped out of the shower, the steam from my hot shower swirled around me and clung to the edges of the bathroom mirror. My damp hair clung to my neck as I grabbed another towel and began drying it absent-mindedly. I didn’t want to think about the file from the police station, Susanna’s smug words, or my horrible day. Not yet, anyway. I could feel the anger coiled up in my chest, just waiting for an excuse to explode. I needed this moment of peace and quiet.But even as I dried my hair, it didn’t last long. My phone, charging on wooden the bedside table, kept buzzing insistently. I frowned and tightened my towel around myself before padding across the room to see who it was, although I already had a good idea. The screen lit up with a familiar name as I picked it up. Four missed calls from Conrad. I stared at the notification, my stomach tightening. Conrad. Of course, it was Conrad.My lip curled as I opened the messages, skimming through a chain of text messages that app
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AbigailThe scent of jasmine rice and lemongrass greeted me before I even saw the basket. It sat on my desk, pristine and perfectly arranged, a silent proclamation of Conrad’s devotion—or perhaps, guilt. My stomach twisted—not from hunger, but from irritation. The presentation was perfect, of course. Conrad’s gestures always were, shouting louder to the office than any declaration of love ever could.I felt eyes on me as I approached my desk, coworkers waiting for my reaction. Some tried to appear casual, others not bothering to hide their curiosity. Sylvia, seated just a few feet away, was the first to speak.“Well, well,” she drawled, leaning against her cubicle wall with an expression of poorly hidden admiration. “If my ex-husband had been half this romantic, maybe I wouldn’t have divorced him.”The bitterness in her tone didn’t escape me, nor did the envy that lingered beneath her words.I forced a polite smile, my fingers grazing the basket’s woven handle. “If you want a man like
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AbigailThe secretary’s announcement had barely finished ringing in my ears when she turned to Conrad and me. “You need to go to the scene immediately,” she added, her tone now turning brisk and professional. “I’ve already arranged for a company car. It’s waiting downstairs.”Without hesitating, I nodded. “Let’s go.”I moved toward the door, the news buzzing in my head like a bee around a flower. Alexander was back. A part of me still struggled to believe it. Just as I moved past Conrad, his hand shot out, gripping my arm to stop me in my tracks. “Wait, Abigail,” he said, his voice low and edged with frustration. “You still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here, in the company? In my office?”I turned to him slowly, disbelief washing over me. I had just answered him, hadn’t I? The reason was obvious, yet here he was, dragging me back into a conversation that was irrelevant with this news of Alexander. Then it hit me—Conrad didn’t even remember. It hadn’t even been tha
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AbigailI glanced up at her, smiling faintly. “Conrad used to bring work home sometimes,” I explained. “I helped him out whenever I could. I guess I picked up a thing or two.”Her eyes softened, and she opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, her brows knitting together briefly before she silenced it. “You’re doing great,” she said instead, her tone encouraging. “Keep it up.”As she walked away, I turned back to my work. For the first time in quite a while, I felt in control. Maybe this was what I needed. Space. Independence. A chance to remind myself—and Conrad—that I wasn’t just an ornament, waiting to be polished and displayed when it suited him.The morning passed in a blur for me as I worked. Even though I had only arrived that morning, my desk was already drowning under a sea of documents, leaving no room for my thoughts to be consumed by Conrad or the mess that had led me here. I was totally absorbed in my work until I he
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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
