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Chapter 29 (1)
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2024-12-26 16:45:57Abigail
My chest heaved with panic as I struggled against the firm grasp of the person who had grabbed me. My body thrashed, still locked in survival mode, as the arms holding me tightened just enough to keep me from slipping to the floor. I clawed and kicked, my breaths ragged and sharp.
“Abigail, stop,” a voice commanded, firm but quiet.
I froze. That voice. It couldn’t be.
Alexander.
“It’s me. Calm down. You’re safe now.”
The words registered slowly in my mind, as if they were coming through a fog. My heart pounded so loudly in my ears that it nearly drowned them out. His voice sent a jolt
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AbigailI turned to him, surprised by the seriousness in his tone. His expression was tight, almost pained. My hands tightened on the piece of tissue as I braced myself for whatever was coming.“When I heard you were in danger…” He trailed off, his voice thick with emotion. He looked away for a moment, his jaw clenched. “I can’t even describe what it felt like. I thought—” His voice broke, and he shook his head. “I thought I was going to lose you.”“Conrad…” I started, my voice trembling, but he held up a hand.“Please,” he said, his tone pleading. “Just let me finish.”I closed my mouth
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AbigailAlexander had planned the kidnapping? It couldn’t be true—could it? Conrad was sure, but doubt clawed at me.The idea alone felt impossible. Alexander, even though he was reserved, and the rest of the family seemed to fear him as much as they respected him, did not seem like he could ever hurt me. He was my family by marriage. And if he wanted to harm me, why would he have saved me?My thoughts circled back to the figure who had wrapped me in safety for one fleeting moment. Could it have been Alexander? No—he was confined to a wheelchair. But then why did that voice, that presence, feel so familiar?I didn’t know what to believe. None of it made sense.“Abigail.” Conrad’s voice broke the spell of my thoughts. His hand reached out, brushing against mine, his tone softening. “I know this is a lot to process. If you need time, we don’t have to talk about it now.”I stayed silent, my gaze fixed out the window.Conrad sighed but didn’t push. Instead, his fingers entwined with mine,
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AbigailThe muffled knock on the front door early the next morning startled me, reminding me that even in Conrad’s secure hideaway, the kidnapping had really affected my nerves.I moved towards the door quickly and unlocked it. Conrad stood on the other side, holding two paper bags of takeout, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and buttery pastries wafting into the air.“Good morning,” he greeted me with a soft smile, his voice careful. His eyes swept over me, searching for any visible wounds that might have escaped his eyes the night before. “Did you sleep well?”I leaned against the doorframe, looking at the bags in his hands. “I think anyone who could sleep peacefully after what happened might be more terrifying than the kidnappers,
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AbigailThe nylon bag in my hand felt heavier than it should have, even though all it contained was a simple change of clothes and my phone which was all I had to pack here. As I stepped out of the bedroom, I almost collided with Conrad.“Abigail,” he said, his voice happy. His face was lit up as if he had just won some prize. Before I could step back, he wrapped me in a hug, his arms firm around me. “Are you ready to leave?”I nodded, the gesture small and noncommittal, but it was enough for him.“I can’t tell you how glad I am to have you coming back home,” he said, stepping back but keeping a hand lightly on my shoulder. “The house has been… empty without you. It’s lost
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Abigail“I’m not saying Susanna is lying,” I added quickly. “But you can’t expect me to believe something so... so extreme without any kind of proof. This is Alexander we’re talking about, Conrad. He’s been nothing but kind to us.” I shook my head in confusion. “Why would he go from that to… this? It doesn’t make sense. Right now, without any evidence, it feels like you’re asking me to take a leap of faith without a net.”Conrad sighed heavily, releasing my hand as he leaned back in his seat. His fingers drummed against the steering wheel, a nervous tick he probably didn’t realize he had. “I want to let you in on what I know, Abby. Believe me, I do. But I never wanted you to be dragged into this. Telling you would feel like the whole purpose of protecting you has been defeated. You were supposed to remain untouched by this mess.”I leaned into my seat, unable to stop myself from snorting in a way that was not ladylike. “Conrad, I was dragged into this from the moment those men knocked
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Abigail“No,” I said immediately. “I’d like to see it now. You promised me, remember?”“Yes, I remember,” he shook his head playfully, as if he had expected I would say that. “This way,” he said, leading me toward his study.We reached the study, and Conrad unlocked the door with a small key he pulled from his pocket. He stepped inside first, turning on the lights, and I didn’t hesitate before following him in.What caught my attention was the safe in the corner. Conrad led me to the far corner, where the imposing safe was built into the wall.Conrad stood in front of the safe, his broad frame blocking my view as he quickly keyed in a combination. His movements were deliberate, his fingers moving so fast I couldn’t catch the sequence.With a faint beep, the safe clicked open. Inside, stacks of documents lay neatly arranged in labeled envelopes. To one side, bundles of crisp foreign currency were stacked like bricks, their colorful bands contrasting against the muted tones of paper and
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AbigailI pulled away from Conrad’s embrace, the lingering heat of his body feeling like a brand to me. “This is… a lot to take in,” I said, making sure my voice felt fragile.He nodded, looking at me with concern. “I’m glad you insisted on seeing it for yourself, Abby. Now you understand why I’ve been doing all this. It’s all for you. To protect you.”I offered him what I hoped looked like a grateful smile. “I’m exhausted,” I murmured. “I think I’ll go to my room.”“Of course,” he replied, his smile much brighter than mine. “Rest as long as you need. I’ll tell the cook to make your favorite for dinner.”
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AbigailThe sharp trill of my phone startled me, pulling me out of my unhappy thoughts. For one irrational moment, I thought it might be Conrad, calling from the study even though we were in the same house.But the name on the screen made my breath catch for an entirely different reason. Liam.I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the green button. Liam, my baby brother, with his easy smile and constant chatter, always so full of life. He didn’t call often—our lives had taken us in such different directions—but when he did, it was never without good reason.What reason could he have to call me now?I shook off the thought, forcing myself to press the button. “Liam,” I said, injecting a lightness into my tone that I didn’t feel. “Hey! It’s been a while.”“Bee,” he said, and my chest tightened at the familiar nickname. He was the only one who still called me that. His voice was warm, but there was an undercurrent of something else there—something worried. “Are you okay?”The question hit m
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
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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
