67 I adore you, Abi.

Christopher couldn't go home until it was dark. As expected, he didn't see Abigail.

She had again gone to her mother's house.

Christopher was too exhausted to call her and pacify her or persuade her to come back. He thought he would talk to her the next day at work. He sagged into the sofa and leaned back, his hands limp on his knees.

His brain was so preoccupied with the incidents of the morning that he had completely forgotten that Abigail's term as his substitute secretary had ended last Friday.

She was going to resume her training the next day.

Christopher had intended to keep her at his office and had already started the process. He hadn't told her yet because he expected to tell her during the trip and have her sign the necessary documents.

At that moment, he could only think about the man who had been killed in the woods.