Chapter 4 Prison Life

Abigail didn't want to see Bianca and Daniella putting on their sweet mother-daughter act.

Just as Abigail walked past them, she saw Stephen coming from the other direction. He seemed to notice Bianca crying and quickened his pace, his tone sharp with anger. "Abigail, what did you say to Mom?"

Abigail stared at him expressionlessly and asked calmly, "Mr. Gibson, maybe you should ask your mother what she said to me. I only said one thing to her."

Stephen looked at Abigail with clear disbelief. He was about to say something when Bianca spoke up, "Stevie, be nicer to Abby. I'm fine. I'm just really happy to see her again."

Stephen was scolded by Bianca and gave Abigail an annoyed look, but didn't say anything more.

"Abby, I got you new clothes and shoes. Why are you wearing something that doesn't even fit?" Bianca glanced at Abigail, frowning slightly.

Abigail looked up, her tone still laced with impatience. "No need. This is fine. I'm going to see Grandpa."

She was about to leave, but Stephen reached out to block her and said, "Grandpa's already sleeping."

"No way. Ralph is still with him, isn't he?" Abigail's voice grew anxious. She hadn't seen Wyatt in three years, and now she was desperate to see him.

"Ralph already left," Stephen replied, clearly annoyed. He thought, 'If it weren't for her, Ralph would've stayed for dinner.'

"Abby, don't worry. You can see Grandpa tomorrow," Bianca said gently, trying to soothe Abigail.

Abigail lowered her eyes in frustration. If it weren't for them, she would've made it in time to see Wyatt. She stayed quiet and turned to go inside.

"Abby, your room's all ready. Now that you're back, I really want to make things right," Bianca remarked softly.

Abigail didn't react. She never planned to stay here in the first place. She just hadn't seen Wyatt yet.

"Okay," Abigail replied with a nod.

Bianca was overjoyed. Her eyes swept over the backpack in Abigail's hand, and a flash of pain crossed her expression. "Stevie, is Abby's room all set up? Let her get some rest first."

Stephen looked a little uneasy. He answered, "The room's not ready yet. Just let her stay in the maid's room for now."

"Stevie, what did you just say?" Bianca looked like she couldn't believe what she was hearing. Stephen didn't say another word.

Abigail spoke up, "Where's the maid's room?"

She didn't want to argue with them anymore. After getting an answer, she picked up her backpack and walked into the room on the first floor.

Bianca looked like she still wanted to say something, but when she thought of what Stephen had done, she stayed quiet.

Abigail shut the door. The maid's room was simply furnished, but it had everything she needed. The Gibson family was wealthy, and even the maid's room wasn't small.

Abigail wasn't picky about where she lived. She'd stayed in solitary confinement in prison before. In fact, the conditions here weren't bad at all.

She unpacked a little, took out her phone to charge it, and replied to a few messages. Then she heard a knock at the door.

Three years ago, Abigail would've needed Bianca's attention. But now, she didn't.

"No, it's just a bit too heavy. I can't handle it," Abigail said.

The food on the table wasn't greasy, but everything had that sweet-and-spicy flavor Daniella liked.

Stephen couldn't help himself and sneered, "Didn't you eat just fine before? Now suddenly you can't?"

Abigail looked up at him, her voice flat. "Back then I hadn't starved myself sick. After three years in prison, being hungry became normal. Eating fast became normal. And getting stomach problems became normal, too."

Stephen froze. Bianca's eyes turned red as she asked, "Abby, why didn't you call us and say something? I always thought you were doing fine in there."

Abigail only found it ironic. 'How could prison life ever be fine?' she thought. They were the ones who sent her in, and after that, they didn't lift a finger to help.

Prison was the kind of place where the strong thrived and the weak got crushed. Abigail had no money, no power. Getting pushed around was her everyday reality.

As for the phone calls, Abigail could only let out a cold laugh at the thought. "I did call," she said.

"That's impossible," Stephen blurted out. "No one at home ever got a call from you." As he spoke, he suddenly stopped.

A trace of mockery appeared in Abigail's eyes. "Two months after I went in, I called home. A maid answered. She told me you all said I should focus on serving my sentence and not call again."

The atmosphere at the table froze instantly.