Abigail The warm water from my shower had done wonders to ease the tension in my shoulders, and as I stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a fresh towel, I felt lighter than I had since I had seen Conrad earlier. Maybe it was the satisfaction of standing up to Conrad, or maybe it was simply the small joys of single hood. After changing into a comfortable set of pajamas, I settled on my bed with a warm plate of food. I wasn’t even that hungry, but something about the simple act of eating a meal with no interruptiosn felt like an indulgence. I propped my phone up against a pillow, letting the familiar voices of a series play in the background as I dug into my meal. I had already seen this show before, so I wasn’t paying much attention, my mind preoccupied with my food and the occasional thought of work that flitted through my mind. Then, a name caught my ear. Genesis. I blinked, my fork pausing midair. It was strange how the name sent a ripple through my thoughts but then something
AbigailI sat stiffly in the backseat of the car, my fingers gripping the fabric of my coat and twisting it before untwisting it. The ride was smooth, but I couldn’t say the same for my nerves. My stomach was a tangled mess of excitement and dread. Liam sat beside me, his leg bouncing slightly, and for once, I didn’t tell him to stop.The driver remained silent as he maneuvered through the city, his eyes focused on the road. But I kept glancing at him, that nagging feeling of familiarity still lingering. I couldn’t place where I had seen him before, but something about him set me on edge. Then, before I knew it, we were pulling up in front of the hospital.I blinked. It wasn’t what I expected. Not at all.In my mind, I had imagined some decrepit, isolated building, maybe some run-down 19th-century monastery-turned-hospital, hidden away from prying eyes. It was what I expected Conrad would have done. But this?This was a modern facility, with sleek glass windows reflecting the city lig
AbigailI struggled, twisting and jerking in Liam’s grip, but he wouldn’t let go. “Liam—stop! Let me go!” I gasped, wrenching my arms, but his hold was as strong as stone. He was avoiding my gaze, his jaw clenched tight.He knew this was wrong. I could see it in the tension lining his body, in the way his fingers trembled against my arms. But he still held me there. A sharp pain of betrayal tore through my chest, so raw and unexpected that for a moment, it was worse than my fear.Liam, the brother I had grown up protecting, the boy I had loved despite all his flaws, had just handed me over. Like I was nothing.Like I was disposable.“Liam,” I whispered, my voice shaking. “Why?”Still, he wouldn’t look at me. “I’m sorry, Bee,” he said quietly. “I didn’t have a choice.”“You always have a choice!” I shouted, my voice rising in panic. I struggled against him, shouting for help, but no one came. The hospital was busy, the staff likely preoccupied elsewhere, and this part of the floor was
AbigailI had never seen him look like that before—not even in his worst moments. It was a cold, seething anger that made the air around him feel heavy, suffocating.He didn’t say a word, but his gaze was enough to make me freeze where I sat, trembling on the cold stairs. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. I was pinned in place by those furious eyes, the weight of his presence bearing down on me like a physical force.“Conrad!” Susanna shrieked, her voice shrill and hysterical. She reached out toward him from where she lay on the landing, her bloodied hands clutching at the air. “Conrad, help me! She pushed me! She’s trying to kill me! She—” Her voice broke off into sobs, and she cradled her stomach, rocking back and forth.Her words didn’t shock me. I couldn’t even find the strength to respond. The pain in my stomach was all-consuming, pulling me under like a riptide. I felt numb and raw all at once, my mind barely able to process what was happening.Conrad’s eyes flicked to Susa
AbigailThe room they took me to was cold and sterile, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones and made you feel small and helpless. I barely registered the nurses and doctors who hovered around me, their faces obscured by my tears and the blinding white fluorescent light overhead. My body felt heavy and numb, like I wasn’t really in it anymore.I was crying, I knew that because I could hear the sound of my own broken sobs echoing in the quiet room. “Please,” I begged, over and over again. “Please don’t leave me. Please, baby, stay with me. Please…”The words tumbled out of me like a mantra, a desperate prayer to a God I wasn’t even sure could make out what I was saying. They didn’t respond to me, the nurses and the doctor. They just worked, their hands efficient and detached as they stripped me of my clothes and began their checks. I flinched at the cold touch of gloved hands on my skin, but I didn’t fight them. What would have been the point? The battle was already lost. My han
Abigail The moment the nurse moved closer to me, I felt my body tense. The moment she began to remove the IV drip, I jerked my hand away. Something about the way she handled it didn’t feel right. I frowned. “What are you doing? The bag isn’t empty yet.” The nurse didn’t look up. “We need to remove it. The situation is urgent.” Urgent? My pulse picked up, a sick feeling settling in my stomach. “What situation?” “The other lady who fell down the stairs,” she answered briskly, not meeting my gaze. “She’s in critical condition and needs a blood transfusion.” I stared at her, uncomprehending. My body was still aching from my own fall, my head pounding, my stomach heavy with an unbearable sense of grief. The weight of what I had lost pressed against my chest like a boulder, suffocating me. And yet, here she was, talking about Susanna. I sat up slightly, forcing myself to focus. “And why are you telling me this?” The nurse finally glanced at me, looking mildly exasperated. “Your hu
Abigail Conrad stood tall as he said those words. “No!” I said firmly. “That's a lie! I'm perfectly sane, and I refuse to give any blood. ” His eyes narrowed, and then, with the ease of someone accustomed to having his way, he turned to the nurses in the room and said the words that sent my stomach plummeting. “I should have mentioned this sooner,” he said, shaking his head as though he were disappointed but unsurprised. “My wife has been… unwell. Mentally unstable. She was receiving treatment, but she stopped taking her medication.” He looked at the nurse closest to him, his voice rational. “She’s not capable of making sound decisions right now.” “I know exactly what I’m saying.” My voice rose, cutting through the room. “Feel free to check my public medical records. My family doesn't even have a history of insanity." One of the nurses hesitated, glancing at me with uncertainty. “She seems lucid,” she murmured, shifting uncomfortably. Conrad’s expression darkened, and he let ou
Abigail When they finally finished, the nurses released their grip on me, my limbs falling limp against the sheets. I didn’t fight anymore. I didn’t have the energy. One of them, the one who had hesitated before, swallowed thickly and turned to Conrad. “We have what we need, sir.” Her voice was soft, as if she were afraid to say more. Conrad gave her a sharp nod. The nurse glanced back at me, guilt flickering in her gaze. “I’ll bring a snack and some juice for her,” she murmured, then quickly left the room, the others following close behind. And then, I was alone. Well, almost. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, my body completely drained. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. I had never felt this weak before. I had never felt this small. A shadow loomed over me. Conrad. I didn’t turn to look at him. I didn’t want to see his face. I felt his fingers brush against my chin, tilting it ever so slightly. I flinched at his touch, but I didn’t have the strength to pull aw
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