Abigail murmured a response but didn’t move.
Jackson was a little impatient with her. He turned to look at her, only to find a pala, as if she’d been frightened. He asked, “Nightmare or what?”
“Nope,” Abigail pressed her arms against the couch, drawing in a slow breath.
Jackson shot her a glance and urged, “We’ve only got fifteen minutes on the parking apron. Don’t waste time.”
Abigail steadied herself against the couch and stood up. When she opened her eyes to see Jackson’s enlarged face so close to hers, it had truly started something in her.
In prison, that was how it always began: someone watching her first, then the fists and kicks would come. Those people timed it with the shift change and beat her senseless in the dead of night.
After getting off the plane, Jackson led Abigail to a black car, motioning for her to get in while he went back to show the boss the way.
Abigail took the chance to send a message to Timothy, trying to figure out what exactly she would do on this business trip.
Meanwhile, back near the plane, Jackson had just arrived when he saw his boss already getting off the plane.
"You startled her just now?" Sebastian said as he approached Jackson, his voice casual.
Jackson was caught off guard. He muttered under his breath, "Startled her? Am I that scary!"
"Next time, have the flight attendant wake her up," Sebastian replied, walking past Jackson without pause.
Jackson inwardly thought Abigail was being overly sensitive, but he didn’t show it on his face.
Once they reached the car, Jackson opened the door and watched Sebastian get in.
Hearing noises behind her, Abigail instinctively turned around. She saw a man wearing a mask and sunglasses, his entire face covered. Even so, she could tell from the contours that his features must be perfect.
At that moment, Sebastian turned to look at Abigail and asked, “What’s wrong?”
Abigail quickly looked away, avoiding more eye contact. She had just received a message from Timothy and learned that the so-called Mr. Robinson was named Sebastian Robinson. He was not the man she’d been looking for.
“Mr. Robinson, are we heading to the company first, or somewhere else?” Abigail asked the question and then fixed her gaze forward.
Sebastian adjusted his clothes, settling back into the seat. “To the hotel.”
“OK,” Abigail replied curtly.
The car took them to a star hotel. As Jackson drove to the parking lot, Abigail followed Sebastian and walked into the lobby.
The hotel manager came forward to greet them personally once she noticed them, and she escorted them to the elevator.
Inside the elevator, the manager handed two key cards to Sebastian. “Sir, here are the rooms you requested. Room 38 is for you, and Room 589 is for the young lady.”
Sebastian gave a nod, accepted the cards, and then handed one to Abigail. He said, “Jeremiah already got some clothes for you as well as some basic toiletries. If there’s anything he missed, you can tell me.”
Abigail held the card between her fingers. Hearing that last line, she instinctively looked up and asked, “Tell you?”
“Is there a problem?” Sebastian asked calmly.
Abigail tightened her grip on the card, her tone a little stiff. “I know you’re busy; it’s better to tell Jackson or Jeremiah about such trivial matters.”
Sebastian didn’t respond to that directly. Instead, he took out his phone and looked at her.
Though Sebastian wore the sunglasses, Abigail still felt the pressure of his gaze. She reluctantly took out her phone and asked cautiously, “Would you like to save my number, or…?”
Sebastian replied curtly. “WhatsApp.”
Abigail opened the app, clicked open her QR code, and handed him her phone.
Once they had added each other, Sebastian continued, “Timothy showed me the code you wrote. It’s very good. Did someone teach you that?”
Abigail taught all the stuff herself. During her time in prison, aside from completing assigned tasks, inmates had pockets of free time. She chose to spend that time reading because before prison, she dreamed of becoming a computer expert.
She didn’t want to reveal too much about her past, but she also understood that a company as big as Halden Group would’ve done a background check before hiring her.
Thinking of that, she replied, “I once watched a crime series. It was about a brilliant college student with a bright future, who ended up in prison trying to uncover the truth for a complete stranger.
“In the end, he designed his own death. When he walked out of prison, hunched over, clutching his bag, it gave me a different understanding of what prison means.”
Sebastian didn’t comment on her past, nor did he pity her. He simply said in an even tone, “I no longer believe that everyone who’s been in prison is bad. Good people can end up in prison, too.”
He looked straight at her as he spoke, his voice deliberate and calm.
Abigail had thought that after all the suffering in prison, no one’s words could shake her anymore. But when he said, “Good people can end up in prison,” a sharp ache bloomed in her chest.
There seemed to be a lump in her throat, which was an emotion lodged deep since the day she was forced to become a killer. It was the injustice she’d swallowed and the rage at being beaten, silenced, and ignored.
She had once imagined that even after her sentence was served, returning to society would mean being branded forever. She thought she’d be a convict, unworthy of respect. No one would listen to her side of the story, no one would believe she might be innocent, and no one would ever say something like “Good people can end up in prison.”