Chapter 6: Welcome Home

Abigail stood absolutely still outside her own bedroom door. She could not believe what she as seeing.

The bedroom was larger than her entire apartment with her mother. And so absolutely beautiful. She struggled to imagine her father had done all of this in only a few hours.

There was the largest bed she had ever seen against the wall furthest from the door. On the left hand side of the bed was a wall that seemed to be made entirely out of glass.

"This," Olivia pointed to the glass wall. "Are your French doors that open entirely. And if you need, your driver will pick you up from here."

Abigail simply nodded, unable to say anything. Then Olivia turned to the wall on the right of the bed, which looked like it was made entirely of wooden panels, all slotted next to each other.

"And this, is your closet," Olivia pressed gently against one of the panels, and a door swung open. "You also have a computer in here, with all of your clothes catalogued, so you never have to look for anything. Because believe me, that could take hours."

Abigail frowned, not understanding, and then walked to the door Olivia had opened. And she found it was actually a door that led into a walk-in closet. It was more stunningly decorated than any store Abigail had ever seen, even the ones she had seen in the stores she could never afford to go into.

Abigail was a little afraid to look at the brand labels on the clothing, sure these clothes cost more than she made in a year.

"And through here," Oliva said, and went further into the closet, and there seemed to be a second room. Abigail followed her.

The second room was just as tastefully decorated as the first. The floors were made of lush carpet, and Abigail almost thought she should take her shoes off. The cupboards and shelves holding all the clothes were the deepest shades of wood she had ever seen, they felt like the sturdiest mahogany and oak.

"This is the handbags room," Olivia said. And Abigail's jaw actually dropped open when she saw all the designer handbags on offer.

Even she wasn't so oblivious that she didn't know the price of some of these things. Hermes, Channel, Alexander McQueen, Givenchy and so many others.

Abigail could take one of those bags, sell it, and all her money problems would be gone forever.

"These are all yours, of course, to do with whatever you wish," Olivia told her, sniffling slightly. "But I do hope that you will wear them in good taste, and at least be matching."

"Of course," Abigail whispered, she was going for sarcastic but even her own voice failed her in that for a moment, staring at the wall of bags, and imagining a life where she actually used one of these.

She was having a hard time just not taking one of them and running for her life.

"And lastly, the jewelry is through here," Olivia touched another panel inside the closet, this time though, she held her hand there for a little longer, and though Abigail couldn't see or hear anything, she thought there must be a biometric scanner there.

And she wondered what could be in the jewelry cabinet that was so expensive that needed protecting when an actual Hermes bag was just lying out in the open.

The panel opened itself, and Olivia stepped through, beckoning Abigail to follow after her.

And Abigail stepped into the most exclusive jewelry store in the world, and the most exclusive museum. There was absolutely no way any of these jewels had a price tag on them.

Abigail stared in wonder at the collection of necklaces, tiaras, bracelets and rings. She went up to one of the most plain looking jewels she could see, a simple necklace with a simple string of jewels around the center.

"Ah," Olivia said, coming up next to Abigail. "That's the Three Daughters. It's one of the cheaper pieces, only about fifty million."

"Oh my god," Abigail breathed, touching the necklace reverently. "Anne Hathaway wore a diamond necklace similar to this on a red carpet once, it was valued at ten million."

"Hah!" Olivia laughed. "A cheap knock-off of this one. Those celebrities like to flaunt all their pretend jewels and pretend money. Oh well, they are good entertainment, I suppose we can let them play with their toys."

Abigail had watched celebrities with wealth all her life, she couldn't process the thought that she was simply watching a show of nonsense, compared to the lives her family lived here.

"Is you room like this, too?" Abigail asked her sister, just realizing that if her father had given this to her, surely her sister must have one too.

"Oh heavens no!" Olivia exclaimed. "What do you think I am, a pauper? This was just thrown together for you yesterday. I've been collecting all my life. I'll give you a tour sometime."

Olivia then started towards the exit of the jewelry room, and then out of the closet. Abigail parted with the necklace with a heavy heart, and followed her sister out.

"One last thing to show you, and then I must be off, you've taken enough of my time today and I simply have to get to a spa after all this work," Olivia said, as she went straight to the bed. On the panel to the left of the bed, Olivia pressed against it and another door swung open.

"This is your bathroom," Olivia told Abigail. "And theres another panel on the other side of the bed wall that opens to your personal office, but Lord knows I never use mine, so I don't know why it's there. But there it is if you need it."

"Thank you so much for showing me everything," Abigail told Olivia sincerely. She might be vain, but this was a very kind thing for her to do for Abigail.

"Don't mention it," Olivia sang as she headed for the door. "I'm sure you're exhausted, and I'll send lunch to your room, and I'll have supper brought in as well."

"Oh," Abigail said, "Uhm, thanks. I'll appreciate lunch, but for supper Adam said . . ."

"Don't pay attention to what dad says," Olivia told her. "It was a miracle he was here to see you today, he won't be here for supper. And its best if you give mother, well, my mother, a chance to cool down."

"Oh, that's understandable," Abigail murmured. It made perfect sense that Adam would be working late this evening, since he'd already taken most of the morning off for her.

"But you cannot be late for breakfast tomorrow morning," Olivia warned seriously. "Its very important to him that we're there for breakfast. It's at eight thirty on the dot in the sunroom."

"Got it," Abigail promised. "Oh but . . ."

"Well, bye," Olivia said, and flounced out of the room.

"Where is the sun room?" Abigail asked uselessly to the closed door.

Abigail sighed, and glanced around the room. It really was beautiful.

She walked over to the bouquet of flowers that had been placed on her vanity. The flowers looked familiar; she wondered if they were picked from the gardens here, if they had grown and been picked from the property.

She thought she'd run into the gardener earlier. What with all the gardening tools she'd tripped over.

The flowers had a card that read, 'Hand picked, just for you!'. She couldn't help but think of the gardener. And though he might not have met her before he'd picked them, and he might not have liked her after he had already plucked them and then met her, she struggled to think of anyone else that might have put these here for her.

The arrangement was very beautiful. Something she might have done in her flower store back home.

Abigail decided she would rest until lunch, hopefully she would hear them knocking on her door. So she lay down on her bed, and was asleep in minutes.

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Abigail was woken for lunch, brought to her room, with a message from her father telling her to take the rest of the day to rest, and that they could catch up tomorrow, or possibly over supper, if she was feeling up to it. He could make no promises that he would be free for supper though.

So Abigail waited in her room the rest of the day, but when supper too was brought to her room, she assumed Olivia had been right, and that their father couldn't make it.

She had her supper in her room, and then readied for bed. Thinking of her new life here, so much had happened in a single day. She was a bit concerned for her step-mother, but at least her half-sister seemed to be on her side. She was careful to remember her mother's warning though.

It was the strangest thing to her, that with all of these people and thoughts running through her mind, the last thing she thought of while she fell asleep, was the gardener she had just met.