Chapter 7

“What job?” Bianca looked completely lost, her eyes full of confusion as she turned to Stephen.

Stephen’s reaction was intense as he practically gritted his teeth. “Abigail’s way too greedy. That was your opportunity. You worked your ass off to get it. Why the hell should you give it up for her? Dani, you’re just too kind. And…” His voice faltered as he remembered what Abigail had said. A flicker of guilt crossed his eyes. “With her education? The company would never hire her.”

Daniella wiped her tears. “Stevie, I just don’t want Abby to be upset. I hate seeing Mom this sad. Maybe I should just leave.”

Abigail had just reached the living room when she heard Daniella’s sweet, pretentious voice. Her first instinct was that trouble was coming. She stopped in her tracks, debating whether to walk in.

“Ms. Abigail Gibson is back.” A maid’s startled voice cut off Abigail’s thoughts.

Abigail wondered, ‘Well, guess I don’t have a choice now.’

She stepped forward. Bianca lit up the moment she saw Abigail and said, “Abby, you’re back. Come on, have some dinner.”

Abigail nodded calmly, her face unreadable.

Stephen saw her reaction and felt his anger spike. “Abigail, don’t you think you owe us an explanation?”

“What exactly do you want me to explain?” Abigail looked up coldly.

Stephen shot to his feet. “You did it on purpose, didn’t you? Just because Dani didn’t give you the job?”

Abigail looked slightly confused, unsure how he had come to that conclusion. “No.”

Stephen didn’t believe her. His eyes burned with fury. “Don’t act like I don’t see through you. You did this intentionally. Abigail, what are you trying to pull? Ever since you came back, this house has been in chaos. If I’d known this was gonna happen, I never would’ve picked you up.”

Abigail let out a sharp laugh, the sound cutting through the air. She looked up, her eyes full of quiet mockery. “Mr. Gibson, you really do have a selective memory. Did I ask you to pick me up? And did you actually bring me back?”

When he heard the two questions, Stephen’s expression grew even grimmer.

“Abby.” Bianca looked at her. She then turned to Stephen and scolded him under her breath, “She just got home today. Can’t you speak to her nicely?”

“And what about her? Is that the attitude of someone who wants to talk things out?” Stephen glared at Abigail.

Abigail thought, ‘If it weren’t for Grandpa, I wouldn’t waste my time arguing with Stephen over something this pointless.’

“Mr. Gibson, if you don’t want to speak with me, I’ll head back to my room,” Abigail remarked, standing up and turning to leave.

“Abby, that’s not what Stevie meant,” Bianca said, reaching out to stop her, shooting Stephen a look of disapproval.

Bianca had always been gentle, never one to harshly scold her children.

When Abigail first came back, she’d clung to that gentleness, grateful that her birth mother turned out to be such a kind and beautiful woman. Unfortunately, Bianca’s gentleness never had boundaries.

Abigail pulled her hand from Bianca’s and replied calmly, “Mrs. Gibson, I’m tired. I’d like to rest.”

After all, this wasn’t her house. Abigail still maintained some form of courtesy.

Bianca’s eyes turned slightly red. She forced a smile. “Abby, you haven’t had dinner yet, have you? Eat something before you rest.”

“No need.” Abigail didn’t feel hungry anyway. Her body was used to only eating once a day.

“Mom, just let her starve herself. What’s with that attitude? Who does she think she’s trying to impress?” Stephen scoffed coldly.

Daniella noticed Bianca’s disapproval and her eyes shifted. “Abby, Stevie and I didn’t see you when we left this afternoon. We thought you’d already come back.”

She hesitated, as if finally unable to hold it in. Her voice softened with a hint of pleading. “Abby, I know you don’t like me, but if you’re ever coming home late again, at least let Mom know. She was really worried about you.”

Bianca looked at Daniella, clearly moved. Their eyes met like a touching moment between mother and daughter.

Abigail watched them, finding it almost laughable. “I’m afraid I can’t.”

Her tone was quiet. “I can’t get through to your phones.” She’d been blocked ever since the day she was sent to prison.

Bianca’s face turned pale in an instant as her lips parted. “That can’t be.”

“Why not?” Abigail looked up, her tone still calm. “Mrs. Gibson, do you even have the number I used three years ago?”

Bianca was about to say she did, that she never deleted Abby’s number.

But Daniella cut in suddenly, “Abby, I once broke Mom’s phone by accident. Maybe when it was getting fixed, your number got deleted somehow. It’s all my fault. Please don’t blame Mom.”

Bianca’s eyes filled with tenderness as she quickly defended Daniella. “Dani, it was just an accident. It’s only a phone. How could it be your fault?”

Stephen, of course, couldn’t stand seeing Daniella blamed. His tone turned sharp. “Abigail, we’re talking about you coming home late. Even if you couldn’t get through, you could’ve at least come back earlier.”

A flicker of impatience crossed Abigail’s face. She didn’t want to argue with them anymore. Her tone remained indifferent. “I couldn’t, because walking takes time.”

Bianca’s face was full of shock. “You walked back? Abby, why didn’t you dri-”

She stopped. She couldn’t bring herself to say the word drive. Three years ago, when Abigail went to prison in Daniella’s place, Abigail had just turned eighteen and she hadn’t got a driver’s license.

Stephen seemed to realize this too. His brows drew together. “There are drivers at home.”

But he didn’t continue. He suddenly remembered–Abigail probably had no idea how to even contact the drivers.

She wasn’t exactly familiar with this home–after three years away, it might as well be a stranger’s house.

Chapter 8