Abigail woke with a start, her breath hitching in her throat. Her dream clung to her, making it hard to shake off the strange nagging emotions.
She frowned, rubbing her face as she tried to make sense of it.
Why did she keep dreaming of Lucy, her stuffed panda? For the past six weeks she had been having all sort of strange dreams with the panda being a constant in them all.
This time, the dream had been different. She had been sitting at a large dining table in a place she didn't recognize, with a plate of food in front of her, but the food had tasted like nothing. Across from her, Lucy sat propped up like a proper dinner guest, her button eyes staring blankly at Abigail while silent tears had rolled down Abigail's face. She had eaten through the tears, each bite feeling heavier than the last like she was forcing herself to swallow something too painful to digest.
The loneliness she had felt in the dream had been so real— too real— that even now, thinking about it made her chest ache.
Abigail let out a slow sigh and turned her head to the side. Lucy lay beside her on the pillow, right where she had left her last night.
She reached for the panda and lifted it close to her face, her fingers running absently over the soft fur.
Why had Jamal left her this? Had he always carried it with him? She doubted he had the chance to hurry out to get it for her that morning before leaving. That had to mean he had it with him, and it was important to him. He had left her something important.
The thought made her heart clench in a way she didn't understand. She brought the panda to her nose and inhaled.
There was still a faint trace of Jamal's scent on it— warm and familiar. It made her smile, her fingers tightening around the plush toy as she wondered if he thought about her the way she thought about him.
Did he miss her? Did he wish they had more time together like she did?
Thanks to memories of their night together, life had become more tolerable in the past six weeks, and she felt less miserable.
As a matter of fact, she now looked at Genevieve with pity, understanding that Genevieve was acting like a bitch towards her because she was intimidated by her.
Abigail's phone screen lit up, drawing her attention. She reached for it and checked the time. Past six.
With a sigh, she got up and walked over to her closet, opening one of the drawers and tucking Lucy beneath a folded scarf safe and out of sight as she always did in the morning.
She turned back to her bed and smoothed out the sheets before heading for the door.
As she walked past Genevieve's room, she heard the muffled sound of a ringing phone. Abigail shook her head, wondering if Genevieve was awake yet.
Genevieve had been out clubbing every night since she resumed, and Abigail hardly knew when she returned home every night.
Not that it surprised her. That was Genevieve's lifestyle, and not even their father could stop it.
In the kitchen, Abigail opened the freezer and reached for the pack of bacon. The moment she did, her stomach twisted uncomfortably, and a wave of nausea hit her out of nowhere. She wrinkled her nose, quickly shutting the freezer and stepping back.
That was weird.
The smell hadn't even been that strong, yet the mere thought of cooking it made her feel like throwing up.
She exhaled through her mouth and decided to make something lighter— oatmeal. She moved mechanically through the motions, ignoring the strange sensation in her stomach.
She had been feeling really weird and unusually fatigued for the past couple of weeks. Heck, she had even had menstrual cramps without seeing her period.
It seemed like her entire body system had changed since she had sex. Was it the same for everyone? She pondered with a sigh.
Just as she was plating her meal, footsteps echoed down the hall, and Genevieve walked into the kitchen, her phone pressed to her ear.
"I already told them over and over again," Genevieve said irritably as she signaled to Abigail to give her a glass of water. "I have no desire to meet with them. I don't even know why they won't just leave things alone and let me be. It's getting annoying and tiring," Genevieve said as she sat by the dining table.
Abigail set the glass of water in front of Genevieve before sitting to eat her breakfast, but her ears stayed tuned to the conversation.
"I understand. But you should meet them and…"
"Meet them for what? To repeat myself?" Genevieve scoffed, shaking her head as she set down the empty glass after gulping down the water. "I don't have time for that shit. They can keep their money to themselves. Dad, listen. I'm not interested in meeting them. Stop being greedy and pushing this on me. You know how messed up this can get if I make the slightest mistake."
She pulled the phone away from her ear long enough to gesture at Abigail. "I trust you don't expect me to eat that crap. Make some bacon or sausage and eggs for me," she said before turning her attention back to the call.
Abigail scrunched up her nose. The thought of cooking bacon or frying anything made her stomach churn again, but she didn't protest. She couldn't.
Instead, she rose, reached for the pack she had put back earlier, and took it out.
"Is she there with you? Why are you having this discussion in front of her?" Ryan growled, frustrated by Genevieve's stupidity.
Genevieve sighed loudly. "It's not like she knows or understands what I'm talking about," she muttered, rolling her eyes as she watched Abigail.
As Abigail placed the bacon in the pan, her nausea intensified. The smell made her dizzy, and her body broke into a light sweat.
Something was wrong.
She barely had time to register it before the sensation became overwhelming. Dropping the spatula, she spun around and rushed past Genevieve to the bathroom, barely making it in time before she threw up.
Still on the call, Genevieve poked her head into the hallway, looking toward the bathroom as she called out to her. "I'm the one with a hangover, and you're the one throwing up. You better get back here fast, and don't let my breakfast burn."
"Is something wrong with her?"
"I'm not sure. It looks like she is sick," Genevieve said with a roll of her eyes. "She's been acting sluggish and weird for days."
"Why are you only mentioning it now?" Ryan asked, his voice filled with concern.
Genevieve's voice turned exasperated. "Because it's not my business."
There was a slight pause before Ryan spoke again in a tight and angry voice, "That girl is your business, and if you know what is good for you, take her to a hospital for a check at once and make sure she is fine. If anything bad happens to her because of your stupidity, I'll be sure to cut you off. And don't think I'm bluffing," Ryan threatened.
She paused, then sighed. Something about his tone told her he was serious. "Fine," she muttered. "I'll take her. But I'm telling you now, if she's fine, you owe me for the inconvenience."
"Call me when you get back from the hospital," Ryan said and hung up without waiting for her to say anything else.
Genevieve scowled and turned toward the bathroom with her arms crossed just as Abigail emerged, her face pale.
"We're going to the hospital," she announced.
Abigail shook her head, but Genevieve gave her a warning look. "Don't get on my nerves by trying to argue with me. Just get ready."
Abigail hesitated before nodding slowly.
She didn't know what was wrong with her, but she had a feeling that whatever it was, it was about to change everything.