~Chapter Thirty-Three~

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Abigail's Fake Mum's POV

Reading the letter that Abby had left us, shattered my heart into tiny fragments. I didn't make any effort to try to find her. There was no doubt that she was with her brother. They probably already told her the truth. And even if I tried to get her to come back, showing my face would only put me into jail. I tried so hard to give Abby what she deserved. All I wanted was to have a child, but after my trip to the Doctor, I discovered I had pelvic inflammatory. I remember crying all day, not leaving my room.

When Anne asked me to babysit Abby I hesitantly said yes. Abby was so bright and beautiful, she was the only one who could put a smile on my face. So, one day when I babysitting her, I packed all my things and ran off with her. I divorced my husband and remarried, as well as changed my name. I didn't have the heart to change Abby's first name, but I did change her last name.

The three of us lived in a small neighborhood and became known as the Johnson family. Sometimes Abby would ask "Where's Gemma?" "Where's Harry?" "Where's Mum?"

It pained me to lie to her but I told her, "They're dead, but don't worry, I'm your new mum." Her questions went away at the age of six. But my lies have been going on for an eternity.

I remember vowing to myself that if I ever lost Abigail, I would die, because I wouldn't have any other reason to live.

**

Abigail's POV

I haven't left my room for anything other than going to the bathroom. All I did was think. I've shut the world out. I might've been in my room for about 3-4 days.

"Abby, can I come in?" asked Liam from the other side of the door. I got up and unlocked it for him.

"You look like a mess."

"Gee, thanks." I said sarcastically, a soft chuckle left his lips.

"Seriously, Abby, when's the last time you ate?"

"Three days ago?" I said a little unsure, his eyes widened.

"You have to eat! Go take a shower, then come to the kitchen. What do you want to eat?"

"Liam, I'm not hungry." I said. He raised his eyebrows when he heard my stomach growling.

"I'll just make you spaghetti, and you are eating. every. last. noodle." he said, pausing at words to emphasize.

I rolled my eyes, but obliged.

(I Hope you liked reading this chapter. Please don't forget to vote and comment, thanks.  ~Amy)

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