Abigail
The shower did little to cool my temper. If anything, it gave me time to stew in the anger boiling in my stomach. My mind raced, running through every possible scenario, every hidden location where Conrad could’ve stowed my mother away. St. Mary’s Memorial was a dead end, and my gut told me it was possible wherever he had moved her to wasn’t even another hospital.
Steam curled around me as the hot water poured over my skin, but my fury burned hotter. Conrad might think he had won because I agreed to go to the press conference, but he was sorely mistaken. This wasn’t over—not by a long shot. I would find my mother, and when I did, I’d make him regret ever dragging her into this.
When I stepped out of the bathroom, the air outside felt like ice against my skin, but I welcome
SusannaThe hallway felt colder than usual as I made my way to my room. My thoughts were like a stream that was flowing violently, swallowing me in waves of regret and paranoia. How could I have been so reckless?Liliana had warned me, her voice dripping with that irritating mix of wisdom and condescension she loved to wield. “Don’t confront Abigail while she’s in police custody,” she’d said. “Don’t risk leaving evidence. Be smarter than that.”But no, I hadn’t listened. I’d let Abigail’s words over the phone ignite a fire in me, one I couldn’t control. And then I had been stupid enough to storm down to the polic
SusannaLiliana didn’t miss a beat. “Stop. Don’t say another word over the phone. Come to my house. Now.”She hung up before I could respond, and I stood there for a moment, staring at the blank screen, her clipped tone replying in my ears. Liliana never panicked, but even she sounded tense, and that only made my anxiety worse.I quickly changed into something casual, a plain dress and flats, and slipped out of the house without a word to anyone. The drive to Liliana’s felt like an eternity as my eyes looked at the road but not really seeing anything. How had Alexander gotten the report? Was there someone else involved? And if he knew… God, if he knew, what would happen to me?
AbigailThe moment my heels touched the pavement, chaos broke out.Shouts. Questions. Camera flashes. A deafening cacophony crashed over me like a tidal wave, swallowing me whole before I could even take a breath to steady myself."Mrs. Remington, is it true you leaked the video yourself?""Abigail , did you know your husband was cheating on you?""Is it true the Remington family is trying to cover this up?""Are you pregnant?!"The last question made me whip my head around to find who was asking it but all I saw was a sea of people yelling and raising cameras. I barely had time to react before the next flash went off, blinding me. The sheer aggression of the reporters was suffocating, their bodies pressing forward, their cameras inches from my face.For a moment, I stood frozen. I hadn't faced this level of scrutiny in years—not since the early days of my marriage, when I was nothing more than the new bride of Conrad Rem
AbigailThe makeup artist’s fingers finally went still, her professional demeanor relaxing. “Alright, Mrs Remington,” she said, offering me a smile. “You’re presentable.”Conrad’s hand landed on my shoulder, a possessive gesture that sent a shiver crawling down my spine. It looked like support, like a husband’s gentle reassurance. But I knew the truth. His fingers dug into my flesh, a silent warning.Don’t you dare, Abigail. Don’t you dare deviate from the script. Don’t you dare shatter this carefully constructed illusion.He escorted me to the stage, his smile perfectly practiced. The cameras flashed in rapid succession. The conference room wasn’t huge, but it felt like a cavern whose walls closing in on me. It was packed with reporters, a sea of faces all turned towards me, their eyes glinting with morbid curiosity. They weren't looking at
Abigail*As we’re driven home from the conference venue in silence, Conrad’s jaw was clenched so tight that a muscle near his temple throbbed. with each passing second. I don’t need to look at him to know that his hands are probably balled into fists as he struggled to keep his temper in check.Maybe his obvious show of irritation is meant to intimidate me, but I couldn't care less. I’ve fulfilled my end of the deal – I’ve cleared his name and painted the perfect picture of our marriage. And now? I just want to go home.Finally, the car slowed to a stop outside my mother’s house but my comfort at seeing it was dulled by Conrad’s unspoken anger. The driver stepped out to open my door, but before I could move, Conrad grabbed her wrist, his grip tighter than a vice.His voice was low, almost a whisper, but it dripped with venom. “You think you’re clever, don’t you?”I turned to him with a calm face but my heart was pounding in her chest. “Let go of me, Conrad.”But he didn’t. His grip t
Abigail*"This isn’t what we agreed on. I said I want to see my mother," I hissed, each word slipping through gritted teeth like venom. The taste of rage was bitter on my tongue, but it was nothing compared to the boiling fury tightening my chest.Conrad didn’t even flinch. His eyes—those emotionless pools—bored into mine. “You already have.”I stared at him, unblinking. “Oh, really?” I spat, letting sarcasm drip from every syllable. “Because last I checked, a video isn’t the same as seeing my mother in person. Or do you need a dictionary for that?”His jaw clenched, that te
Abigail*I stood in front of my closet that morning longer than I should have, my fingers grazing the fabric of my clothes. It was an understatement to say that I was undecided, and it was eating at me. Today wasn’t just any other day. Today was the day I finally got some control in my life, or at least pretended to. After all that had gone down yesterday, I couldn’t afford to appear like the weak, betrayed woman I had been painted to be.Not in front of Conrad, not in front of the company, and certainly not in front of the vultures who called themselves the press, who would be waiting to see if I’d crumble.In the end, I settled on a crisp white blouse tucked into tailored black trousers, the sharp lines giving me an edge I desperately needed. My hair was pulled back into a sleek bun, and I applied just enough makeup to look polished without appearing like I was trying too hard. The reflection staring back at me looked composed, profes
Abigail *I barely had time to blink before Susanna was in front of my desk."What a surprise," she sneered, her arms crossed over her chest as she glared down at me. "I should have known you’d weasel your way in here. Using your connections to get a cushy position in one of the company's departments? Typical."I set my pen down and met her gaze with forced patience. "Of course, that’s what you’d think," I said dryly. "That’s exactly the kind of thing you would do, isn’t it?"Her nostrils flared at my words, but before she could fire back, she switched the conversation, her voice taking on a sharp edge. "You always do this, Abigail. Stirring the pot, causing trouble where there doesn’t need to be any. Why can’t you just leave things alone?"I couldn’t help it. I rolled my eyes. The old me—the one who had still cared what she thought, who had let her words burrow under my skin all that time ago in my home—would have taken the bait. But now? Now her little provocations were nothing mor
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
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
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
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
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 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
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 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
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