Chapter 17

Abigail spent the whole night in a daze. She sat on top of her blanket in a t-shirt and long pants, not sleeping or resting. Her skin hardened in goosebumps after the piercing cold air wrapped itself around her body for the past couple of hours. She hugged her knees tighter.

Tonight, she had decided to punish herself with the freezing temperature. Her mind ran rampant thinking about lots of things: the little power she held, the pampering she was given, the rules she had to live by, the people she had to be careful around, and the women in her life.

Her future was not hers to determine, so why would her past be unveiled without strings attached? She lived in such an intricate fabrication of relationships that had altered her behavior and thinking. In other words, a mask that she could not take off. How could she continue to bring herself to live like this?

She ran her hands up and down her arms. The meat on her isn't much and would not keep her warm. Did she deserve more punishment than this? Lose more of her humanity, her dignity, just so she could grasp onto a tiny bit of reality?

The helplessness of trying to discover her own past was so painstakingly impossible. What was it that they could be hiding? She couldn't help but ask herself over and over.

Sir Barrington. Her Father. John. Lucas.

Asher.

It was almost dawn when Abigail saw the sun break through the horizon. The rays shot out bright, accompanying the dark sky with dreams of purple, blue, red, and orange hues.

She got off her bed and went to the window.

The colors were magnificent. The sun was blinding but it was a soft tone that reminded her of the time they went to the beach. She suddenly remembered this was the same sun that lit the way for her thoughts after her Mother died, led her out of the darkness after Lucas climbed into her bed, and saved her from the nightmares of the bloody murder. And it will continue to give her what she needed.

Hope.

A miracle. The miracle that she could stand up, even alone. Stand up to represent herself. To reclaim who she really was. To be who she wanted to be. To be free.

Abigail clung onto that hope. She promised herself she would get to the bottom of it even if no one would let her. Would her Mother have wanted her to know also? How she was involved in her death.

She decided that it didn't matter what her Mother wanted. At this point, what mattered was what she wanted and nothing else.

Early in the morning after she finished her housekeeping duties, her plan was to find something in John's room that could lead her somewhere. She felt bad to take advantage of his absence but it was the best start she had.

John's room was slightly larger than hers. He loved the modern black theme and had his king-sized mattress all in dark sheets. Unlike her, who wanted her windows opened always, he kept his closed with black-out curtains. He had a thin desk beside his bed that rarely had anything on it as he used his office more often. A futon was opposite of it and scattered around were decorations in a similar theme.

She started on his bookshelves to see if she could find anything. Rummaging through his items was a severe violation of his privacy so she was careful to be respectful and put them carefully back. After not finding anything in his pristine quarters, she took a minute to herself. She still had his office to search.

A few minutes later, Abigail was standing in her brother's office. She was surprised by the substantial amount of paperwork and files he had going on. The chances of finding something were much higher.

She immediately began her search, not really sure what she was looking for. Maybe for files about her fourteen years ago. For why her Mother and Lady Barrington had to go out that day. Where they were going and how it was related to her.

She spent the first five minutes going through his large desk, then the next ten minutes scouring his shelves. There were dozens upon dozens of paperwork and unfortunately, the majority of them were useless. A lot of them only dated back as far as five years when John started interning at the Barrington Corporations and Security.

Abigail slumped down in the seat. She only had an hour before she started her next chore and it would be nightfall before she had time again. Her foot pivoted and she spun herself around. Maybe she wasn't searching in the right area, or maybe her brother really had no information about anything. He was only a child when their Mother died.

She had started to organize her next assault into her Father's office in her head when her eyes lowered onto the mundane laptop. John's laptop.

A plain black HP, it was closed and rested on top of the desk. She hadn't planned to make her search digital but maybe she should now.

The laptop opened with a smooth motion. The screen came up prompting the password.

"Dammit."

She caught herself swearing and bit her lip. Her fingers began to position themselves on the keys. She typed in his birthday.

Incorrect.

She typed in Claire's birthday.

Incorrect.

She tried all their birthdays, anniversaries, and the things she knew he liked.

If what she was looking for was here, this laptop was the most reasonable place to hold it. For one, she knew that he transferred data from his phone to his personal computer when it gets full.

She had to get in and if she didn't know the password, there was another way.

Hack it. And there was only one person she knew who could.

He graduated from Oxford University in the top five percent with a prestigious degree in computer science. He helped code a massive database the police force used to profile criminals and currently has an expanding security firm in New York City.

Once again, Abigail was standing outside of Lucas's office, announcing her entrance. His voice was calmer this time around, creating a welcoming invitation, but also made her put her guard up.

She came to stand in front of him and waited to be acknowledged. It took him a minute to greet her without taking his eyes off the screen. His fingers were typing away insanely fast on the keyboard. Then he paused and put a knuckle on his lip before ruffling through some papers and back to typing again.

She placed her brother's computer on his desk, just off to the side.

"Help me break into John's laptop," she finished and stepped back.

He stopped typing immediately. His brows rose up with both curiosity and amusement, meeting his crystal-blue orbs with her golden-hazel ones from below.

"Come again?" The corner of his lips couldn't help but pull up.

She sighed with frustration but hid her annoyance by biting her lip. She explained again that she needed to get into his laptop but she didn't have the password.

He gave her a long hard look before exhaling and finishing up the line on his coding.

"Everything comes at a price, little girl."

She knew he wanted an explanation but was glad he didn't ask. Her hands fisted at her side. Of course, it does. She clenched her jaw. It was only reasonable that he wouldn't do anything for free knowing his behavior and personality.

"You owe me," she caught herself saying.

He stopped typing again.

"I'm sorry?" His tone was different and his eyes were now filled with nuisance.

She blinked a few times and licked her lips.

"You assumed I wanted revenge for what you did if I take your life. What if you could use your life to repay me back instead?"