Chapter 53

Hello every one I decided since this is the big 50 chapter I would throw you guys for a loop. I hope you enjoy the chapter.

For two weeks, Abigail was consumed by the need to uncover the truth about the plane crash that had taken her parents. The memory had sparked something in her, an unrelenting curiosity mixed with fear, and it wouldn’t let her rest. Every day, she sat hunched over her laptop, surrounded by stacks of papers, scribbled notes, and printouts of articles she’d dug up online. She’d go through every lead, every record, every scrap of information she could find about the accident.

It had started small: a search for flight records, news articles, and reports on the crash. But as the days wore on, her research grew more obsessive. Abigail wasn’t sleeping much anymore. Emma noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the way her usually vibrant energy had dulled. Abigail would stay up late into the night, the faint blue glow of her laptop the only light in the room, and wake up early to continue where she left off.

“Abi,” Emma said one morning, leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, watching Abigail pour herself yet another cup of coffee. “You’re going to make yourself sick if you keep this up.”

Abigail looked up, bleary-eyed but determined. “I can’t stop, Em. I’m so close to figuring something out, I know it.”

Emma frowned, walking over to her and gently taking the mug out of her hands. “It’s been almost two weeks. You’ve barely slept. You’re not eating enough. You can’t keep running yourself into the ground like this.”

Abigail pulled away, her voice tight. “You don’t understand. I have to know. I need to know.”

“I do understand,” Emma said, her tone soft but firm. She placed a hand on Abigail’s shoulder, trying to get her to meet her gaze. “But pushing yourself like this isn’t going to bring you answers any faster. You need to rest. I’m worried about you.”

Abigail finally looked at Emma, her expression conflicted. She knew Emma was right, but the restless urgency inside her wouldn’t let her stop. “I’m fine,” she muttered, though her voice lacked conviction.

Emma sighed, pulling Abigail into a hug despite her protests. “You’re not fine, Abi. I know this is important to you, but I’m not going to stand by and let you run yourself ragged.”

Abigail melted into Emma’s embrace, her shoulders slumping. For a moment, the exhaustion crept through the cracks in her armor, and she felt just how tired she truly was.

“I’ll take a break,” Abigail whispered, her voice barely audible. “I promise.”

“Good,” Emma said softly, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Because I love you, and I need you to take care of yourself.”

But even after Emma’s pleas, Abigail couldn’t fully stop. She’d give herself a few hours of sleep, just enough to appease Emma, but then she’d be right back at it. The mystery was a constant weight on her chest, pressing down harder each day. She had to know the truth.

And then, just when she thought she was hitting a wall, the letter arrived.

The letter arrived on a rainy Tuesday morning. Abigail hadn’t been expecting anything, so when she found the plain white envelope with no return address in the mailbox, her brow furrowed in confusion. The paper was slightly damp from the rain, and her name was written in careful, familiar cursive—a handwriting she hadn’t seen in years. Her heart dropped into her stomach.

She stood on the porch, frozen in place as the rain drizzled softly around her. The sound of the water hitting the roof seemed far away, drowned out by the pounding in her chest. Hands trembling, she carefully opened the envelope and pulled out a single sheet of folded paper. As her eyes skimmed the first line, her breath caught.

My dearest Abigail,

Her parents’ handwriting. Her parents’ words. It was impossible.

She sank down onto the porch steps, her soaked jeans the last thing on her mind as she read:

We wish we could tell you this in person, sweetheart, but it’s not safe yet. Please know we never wanted to leave you, and every day we’ve missed you more than words can say. We are okay. We are alive. Someday we’ll see you again.

For now, trust your aunt. She knows everything. We love you so much. Always.

The letter wasn’t long, but it left Abigail reeling. The rain soaked through her clothes as she sat there, staring at the words, her mind racing.

We are alive.

How was this possible? They had died—everyone said so. The plane crash had taken them. Her parents were gone. But this letter was here, real and undeniable in her hands.

She read it over and over, as if the words might change, as if she might wake up from whatever strange dream she had fallen into. But the letter didn’t disappear. And when the cold finally got to her, she forced herself to stand, clutching the paper tightly as she went inside to find her aunt.

“Auntie” Abigail said as she entered the kitchen, her voice tight and uneven. Her aunt was sitting at the table, sipping coffee and flipping through the newspaper. She looked up at Abigail, a small crease forming between her brows when she saw the expression on her niece’s face.

“What’s wrong?” Her aunt asked, setting the paper down.

Abigail didn’t speak right away. She crossed the room and placed the letter in front of her aunt. “This came in the mail today,” she said softly.

Sarah’s face went pale the moment she saw the handwriting. She didn’t reach for the letter right away, just stared at it as if it were something that might bite her.

“Abigail,” her aunt said after a long pause, her voice wary.

“Is it true?” Abigail demanded, her voice shaking. “Is it them? They’re alive?”

Her aunts gaze shifted to her niece, her expression a mix of guilt and something else—relief, maybe. She let out a slow breath, running a hand through her hair. “I… I knew this day might come. Sit down, Abigail.”

Abigail didn’t want to sit, but her legs felt weak, so she dropped into the chair opposite her aunt, staring at her expectantly.

She picked up the letter, her hands trembling slightly as she read it. When she looked back up, her eyes were softer, sadder.

“They’re alive,” her aunt said finally, confirming what Abigail had both hoped for and feared. “Your parents aren’t dead, Abigail. They… they’re in witness protection.”

Abigail blinked, her mind unable to process the words. “Witness protection?”

She nodded. “They saw something… something they weren’t supposed to see. The crash was staged to keep them safe. It was the only way. They couldn’t tell anyone—not even me at first. When I took you in, I found out a few months later.”

Abigail stared at her aunt, disbelief and anger warring in her chest. “You’ve known this whole time?”

She flinched at the accusation in her voice. “I didn’t have a choice, Abigail. I had to keep it from you. If anyone found out they were alive, it would put them—and you—in danger. I was trying to protect you.”

“Protect me?” Abigail repeated, her voice rising. She felt tears sting her eyes, her emotions a tangled mess. “I thought they were dead! I spent my whole life thinking they were gone, grieving for them. And all this time…” She shook her head, unable to finish.

Her aunts face was lined with guilt. “I’m sorry, Abigail. I really am. But they did what they had to do to keep you safe. That’s why they wrote to you now—they must feel it’s finally safe enough to reach out.”

Abigail stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. She paced the room, her thoughts spinning out of control. Her parents were alive. Everything she thought she knew had been a lie. She didn’t know whether to feel joy, anger, or betrayal.

“What happens now?” Abigail asked finally, turning to look at her aunt. “Do I… do I get to see them?”

Her expression was pained. “I don’t know, sweetheart. I don’t have all the answers. But if they reached out, it means they’re trying. You just have to be patient.”

“Patient?” Abigail echoed bitterly. “I’ve been patient my whole life.”

Her aunt didn’t have a response to that. Abigail turned back toward the window, staring out at the rain as it poured steadily outside. Her parents were alive. That truth should have brought her comfort, but instead, it felt like a storm had opened up inside her, and she wasn’t sure it would ever calm again.

As the rain beat against the glass, Abigail clutched the letter tightly in her hand. No matter how much it hurt, this was the closest she’d been to them in years. And she wouldn’t let it go.

Abigail didn’t remember how long she stood there staring at the window, but the house felt suffocating. The walls closed in on her, the weight of the revelation pressing her down like she couldn’t breathe. Without thinking, she grabbed her jacket and the letter, pushing through the front door into the rain.

The storm matched her emotions—wild, heavy, unrelenting. The drops soaked through her clothes almost instantly, but she didn’t care. She walked aimlessly down the street, her shoes splashing through puddles, her hands shaking as she clutched the letter tightly against her chest.

Finally, with tears streaming down her face, mixing with the rain, she pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed Emma’s number. Her fingers fumbled on the screen, but she managed to hit call. It rang once, twice—then Emma’s voice, warm and steady, came through the line.

“Abigail? What’s wrong?”

Abigail broke. “Emma,” she choked, her voice barely audible through her sobs. “I—I need you. I need you now.”

“Abigail, where are you? Talk to me,” Emma’s voice was instantly concerned, the calm edge in her tone replaced with urgency. “What’s going on?”

Abigail shook her head, even though Emma couldn’t see her. “I can’t… I can’t say it over the phone. Just come. Please. I need you.”

“Okay, okay,” Emma said softly, but her voice was firm. “Tell me where you are, Abigail. I’ll come get you.”

Abigail gave her the name of the street, her voice cracking as she spoke. Emma’s response was immediate. “Stay right there. I’m on my way. Don’t move, okay? I’ll be there soon.”

Abigail hung up and dropped the phone back into her pocket. She stood there in the middle of the street, rain pouring down, her body trembling from the cold and from the storm raging inside her. All she could do was wait—for Emma, for answers, for something to finally make sense.

Emma’s tires splashed through the puddles as she pulled onto the quiet road. The rain had grown heavier, drumming against the windshield, and she squinted to see through the downpour. Her heart was pounding in her chest, faster than the rhythm of the rain, as she scanned the side of the road for Abigail.

Then she saw her.

Abigail was kneeling on the wet pavement, her shoulders shaking as sobs wracked her body. Her dark hair clung to her face, soaked through, and her arms hung limp at her sides. Emma’s stomach twisted painfully at the sight. Without a second thought, she threw the car into park, barely shutting the door as she ran into the storm.

“Abigail!” Emma shouted, her voice nearly drowned out by the rain. She sprinted toward her, her shoes splashing through water, but Abigail didn’t look up. She was so still, so broken, Emma’s heart cracked just seeing her like this.

Dropping to her knees beside her, Emma didn’t hesitate. She wrapped her arms around Abigail’s trembling frame, pulling her in tightly. Abigail crumbled into her chest, her cries muffled as Emma held her.

“I’m here, baby,” Emma whispered, her voice shaking. Her own tears threatened to fall as she stroked Abigail’s soaked hair. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Abigail clung to Emma like she was her only anchor, her fingers gripping the fabric of Emma’s jacket. Her sobs were gut-wrenching, raw, the kind that came from a wound too deep to fully understand.

“They… they’re alive,” Abigail choked out, her voice broken. “Emma, they’re alive, and they… they left me.” Her words came in gasps between cries, as if saying them out loud shattered her all over again.

Emma froze for half a second, her mind racing to process what Abigail had just said. But it didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was Abigail. Emma hugged her tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“I’m so sorry, Abi,” Emma whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry. It’s going to be okay, I promise. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Abigail just cried harder, the storm raging around them, rain soaking them to the bone. But Emma didn’t care. She would sit here forever if Abigail needed her to.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Abigail’s sobs began to subside. Her breathing steadied just slightly, and her grip on Emma loosened. Emma leaned back just enough to look at her face, brushing wet strands of hair away from her eyes. Abigail’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes red and puffy, but there was still so much beauty there—even in her pain.

“Come on,” Emma said softly, her hands cupping Abigail’s face. “Let’s get you out of this rain. You’re freezing.”

Abigail didn’t respond, but she nodded faintly. Emma stood and helped her to her feet, keeping an arm around her waist as they walked toward the car. Abigail stumbled slightly, her legs weak, but Emma held her steady.

She opened the passenger door and guided Abigail inside, grabbing an old blanket from the backseat to drape over her trembling shoulders. Emma ran around to the driver’s side and slid in, shivering as the rain dripped from her clothes. The car was quiet except for the hum of the heater kicking in and the steady drum of the rain on the roof.

Emma turned to Abigail, who sat staring at her hands, clutching the soaked letter in her lap.

“Do you want to tell me everything?” Emma asked gently, reaching over to squeeze Abigail’s hand.

Abigail took a shaky breath, her voice barely a whisper. “Not yet. Just… can you drive?”

“Of course,” Emma said softly. “Anywhere you want.”

Abigail leaned back against the seat, closing her eyes. Emma watched her for a moment, her heart aching, then turned the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life, and as Emma pulled back onto the road, she glanced at Abigail one more time, silently vowing to be her strength—no matter what.

As the car disappeared into the rain, the storm outside continued to rage, but inside, the only thing that mattered was the quiet promise between them: I’m here. I’ve got you.

When they finally arrived at Emma’s house, the rain had slowed to a steady drizzle. Emma parked in the driveway and turned off the car, her focus still on Abigail, who hadn’t said much during the drive. She looked exhausted, her tear-streaked face still flushed and her hands still clutching the damp letter.

“Let’s get you inside,” Emma said softly, reaching for Abigail’s hand.

Abigail let herself be led into the warm house, shivering as the cold air hit her again. Emma guided her through the doorway, kicking off her own soaked shoes and leading Abigail to the bathroom.

“Wait here,” Emma murmured, squeezing Abigail’s hand before disappearing into the hallway. A moment later, she returned with a stack of towels and fresh clothes. “I’ll run you a bath. You need to warm up.”

Abigail just nodded faintly, her eyes tired and distant.

Emma turned the taps, filling the tub with steaming water and a hint of lavender bath soap, hoping the familiar scent would comfort Abigail. Once the bath was ready, Emma turned to her, her voice gentle but firm. “Come here, Abi.”

Abigail hesitated for a moment, then stepped toward Emma, her movements slow and unsure. Emma carefully peeled off Abigail’s damp clothes, whispering reassurances as she did, treating her with tenderness.

“Let’s get you in,” Emma said softly, helping Abigail step into the tub. Abigail sighed quietly as the hot water enveloped her, the tension in her shoulders easing ever so slightly.

Emma sat on the edge of the tub for a moment, watching Abigail. Her heart ached at how fragile she looked—like a shadow of the confident girl she loved so deeply. Without a word, Emma stood, stripped off her own wet clothes, and climbed into the tub behind her.

Abigail didn’t protest; instead, she leaned back against Emma, resting her head on her shoulder. Emma wrapped her arms around her, holding her close as the hot water worked to soothe them both.

“I’ve got you,” Emma whispered, pressing a soft kiss to Abigail’s temple. “You’re not alone.”

Abigail let out a shaky breath, her fingers tracing over Emma’s arm where it wrapped around her. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice small but steady.

Emma held her tighter, resting her cheek against Abigail’s head. The silence between them wasn’t empty—it was full of understanding, of comfort, of love. The storm outside had passed, but Emma knew the one inside Abigail was still raging. And she would be here for her—for every moment of it.

As the steam rose around them, Emma closed her eyes, holding Abigail in the warmth of the bath, in the safety of her arms, and silently promised to help her heal—no matter how long it took.