Chapter 4

17.8K 532 9
                                    

(Edited)
Abigail's POV

I flopped down on my bed and stared up at the ceiling.

I had gotten through day one.

Though, my mind kept wandering.

I tried to think about anything else but epically failed.

Those emerald eyes kept appearing in my mind.

I was dragged out of my thoughts by a rough knock on the front door.

Rushing down the stairs, I opened the door and immediately my eyes had bulged out of my head.

"Are you Abigail...Kalose?" The man asked staring at the clipboard.

He looked up at me and waited for my answer.

Slowly, I shook my head.

I remembered him.

He was the one who took away my....

"Sissy!!" My little sister opened the car door that was on the street and ran up to me, giving me her small bear hug.

I almost spoke but then I remembered the man was still here.

"Just sign these papers and you will have custody to her," he said, handing me papers.

I hesitated taking the papers.

Why is my sister just being... handed over? Just like that.

Though, I signed my signature on each paper, reading over them first, of course.

"Thank you," he said and walked off.

Weird.

That is definitely not right.

Maybe dad did something.

I'm just glad to have my little sister back!

As soon as I got into the house, I pulled my sister into the house.

"Audrey! I missed you so much! Look how big you've gotten! You got glasses? Oh, I missed you so much!" I picked her up and swung her in a circle while she giggled.

"Look at that long hair!" I set her on the ground and admired my now 9-year old sister.

"Abby," she groaned.

Staring down at her, I remembered all the fun vacations we had with my mother when we were younger. The family trips and picnics at the park.

We use to be an example of a perfect, happy family.

Just then, the door swung open and I was dragged out of my thoughts once again, before pulling Audrey behind me.

He looked me in the eye before they traveled to my sister.

I could tell he was definitely drunk. You could smell his rotten breath a mile away. But that's not the part that scared me.

It's the deadly look he had plastered clearly on his face.

The Mute MateOù les histoires vivent. Découvrez maintenant