Chapter 8
Abigail
+25 BONUS
I fastened the necklace around my neck, letting the cool metal rest against my collarbone as I studied my reflection. The earrings were already plined to my ears. The Jewelry Conrad had given me the night before sparkled in the morning light, a perfect complement to my plain dress. Despite everything, I wanted to feel put together, like myself. And this reminded me that above all else, my husband loves me.
Stepping out of the bedroom, I barely made it a few steps before Susanna’s voice rang out, sickly sweet. “Oh, good morning, Abigail!”
Her smile was bright, almost too bright, as her eyes flicked jo the Jewelry I wore. I gave her a polite nod, bracing for whatever comment she had prepared. “Morning, Susatima.”
She tilted her head, an air of fake innocence about her. “Oh that’s a lovely set you’re wearing, Did Conrad pick it out for you?”
“Yes, he did,” I replied, unwilling to say any more.
Her smile widened, but there was something predatory in it “Speaking of jewelry, I can’t seem to find mine,” she said, a hand resting dramatically on her stomach. “I had it just last night, and now… well, someone must fave taken it. It’s gone missing.”
I frowned. “Missing?”
“Yes,” she said with a sigh, placing a delicate hand on her stomach as though the stress might harm her unborn child. “I’ve been looking all over for it. Like I said, someone must have taken it.”
The accusation hung heavy in the air.
“That’s unfortunate,” I said coolly, stepping around her.
But Susanna wasn’t done. Within minutes, she’d mobilized the entire household staff, ordering them to search every inch of the house. She sat on the chaise lounge in the living room, watching with a satisfied smirk as the servants scrambled to obey, turning over cushions and searching under furniture.
Then came the discovery.
“I found something!” a maid finally called out, holding up a single earring.
The delicate piece glinted in the light as the maid presented it to Susanna. It was eerily similar to my own set, though the gemstones were a different color.
“Where did you find that?” Susanna demanded.
The maid hesitated. “Under Marcy’s bed, ma’am.”
The room fell silent.
Susanna’s gasp was loud and sharp, her hand flying to her mouth. “Under Marcy’s bed?” she said, her voice dripping with disbelief. “I can’t believe this. After everything we’ve done for her…”
Marcy stood frozen near the doorway, her face pale. “I–I didn’t take it,” she stammered.
Susanna waved her words away. “But it was found there, wasn’t it?” she said, her voice dripping with venom. “1 can’t believe this. Marcy, how could you? We’ve been so kind to you–even allowing you to get up later than Abigail–and this is how you repay us? Did you think you were the lady of the house?”
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The words landed like a slap. I knew they weren’t meant for Marcy alone. Susanna’s paze flicked to me briefly, convincing me of my suspicion. I knew what she had meant by those words; That I was lazy. Undeserving
I stepped forward, my volce firm. “Why hide the stolen stuff in such an obvious place? Anyone who can get into Marcy’s room could’ve done it.” I said evenly. “Marcy’s only been here a day, does she have the ability to sneak past everyone and hide your stuff in a corner we don’t even know about? Where’s the rest?”
I remembered how hard Marcy worked, and it just didn’t seem like something a thief would do. “Marcy had no reason to steal from you.”
Susanna turned to me, her expression twisted into disbelief “Some people never know their place, Abigail,” she said pointedly. “Always coveting what belongs to others. Ist today’s incident proof enough? You’d better be careful not to hire such people again.”
I fixed her with a steady gaze. “If you’re so sure, then we should call the police,” I said. “A proper investigation will settle this.”
Susanna’s face faltered for a split second before she composed herself. “That won’t be necessary,” she said quickly, her voice tight. “Let’s not make a scene. We can handle this internally.”
I pulled out my phone anyway, dialing the non–emergency line. “Handling it means an investigation. Otherwise, this baseless accusation ends now.” If she thought I’d let her tarnish Marcy’s reputation without evidence,
she
was mistaken.
Before I could press the call button, the house phone rang, qutting through the tension. One of the maids rushed to answer it, her expression growing more nervous as she listened. After a moment, she turned to me.
“It’s Mr. Remington,” she said quietly.
I took the phone and greeted him.
“I heard there’s a situation at home,” Conrad said, his tone carefully neutral. “What’s going on?”
Before I could respond, Susanna snatched the extension from its cradle, her voice quivering with crocodile tears. Oh, Conrad, it’s awful! That caregiver that came yesterday she stole from me! And now Abigail won’t even throw her out, even though the evidence is right there! She’s insisting on calling the police instead.”
I rolled my eyes at her dramatics.
Conrad’s voice remained calm. “Let Abigail handle it as she sees fit,” he said. “There’s no need to involve the police.”
Susanna’s face darkened at his response, her lower lip trembling as though she might cry again,
Without another word, she hung up the phone and turned to me. “Well?” she demanded “What are you going to do?”
“We’ll keep searching for your jewelry,” I said. “It has to be around here somewhere. But I know Marcy didn’t take It. Marcy, you can go back to your room.”
I could see tears of relief well up in the caregiver’s eyes, and she quickly wiped it away before leaving From the look on her face, Susanna didn’t like my decision. With a huff, she turned and disappeared up t retreating to her room.
tairs,
he did. When Conrad arrived home that evening, I watched from the window as he entered the house. He didn’t come to me right away; instead, he headed toward the master bedroom, where Susanna was. Of course,
It was nearly an hour before he finally found me in my room, where I was sipping a cup of tea and reading the
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Chapter 8
evening news on my tablet.
“Abigail,” he greeted, his tone light and casual, as if nothing had happened. “How was your day?”
“Eventful,” I replied, setting down my cup.
He approached me, tracing a hand across my cheek. “I’ve heard a bit of what happened today. I know it must have been a lot. I wish I was here to handle it.”
I glanced up at him, my lips forming a tight sinile. “Don’t worry about it,” I said, my tone carefully neutral. “We managed just fine.”
He hesitated, sensing the tension but pressing on anyway. About Susanna…”
I stiffened. Here it comes.
“She’s very upset about losing her jewelry,” he said. “I know it’s an inconvenience, but maybe you could lend her your set for now. Just until we replace hers.”
For a moment, I thought I’d misheard him. The audacity of his words made me laugh–a short, bitter sound that escaped before I could stop it.
“You want me to give her the gift you gave me?” I asked, meeting his gaze.
He frowned, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s just temporary,” he said. “She’s pregnant, Abigail. And fragile. She’s been through so much.”
Another sharp laugh escaped me, cutting him off mid–sentence. “Fragile,” I repeated, the word tasting sour in my mouth. I was tired of hearing that word. Sick and tired of it.
His face tightened. “It’s just one set from your collection. I’ll give you more…
12
I wore the earrings this morning, and they felt fine, but now this one feels like a hot iron burning me.
Chapter
