The Truth

As Abigail made her way to the study, she assured herself that she was doing the right thing.

Deep down she knew that if this was something her father had been lying to her about for years and trying to keep away from her, then chances were he was going to keep lying about it.

She was expecting answers, but she wasn't exactly expecting the truth. Confirming from his response that he was lying to her would be enough for her to know she was right that there was a foul play.

When she reached the door, she took in a deep breath before raising her hand and knocking softly.

"Come in," Ryan's deep voice called from inside.

Abigail pushed the door open and stepped in. The study was dimly lit, with the golden glow of the desk lamp casting shadows on the walls. Ryan sat behind his desk, a cigar in hand and a bottle of whiskey and wine in front of him.

When he looked up at her, his expression was unreadable. "How are you doing? You said you wanted to talk," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Sit."

Abigail nodded and sat on the chair across from him. Although she could feel her heart pounding in her chest, she forced herself to hold his gaze and not let her anxiety show.

She couldn't tell why, but something about her father always put her an edge and made her feel like a cornered animal.

Ryan watched her with disguised interest and he couldn't help but wonder what she wanted to talk about.

Seeing how he was watching her, Abigail figured that he was waiting for her to speak so she took out her phone and began typing quickly on her text to speech app.

[Was I involved in a car accident when I was a child?]

Ryan's eyes narrowed the moment he heard her question and his jaw tightened. "Why do you ask?"

[I have been having nightmares.] she responded.

"Nightmares? About what? What do you see in your nightmares?" He asked, setting aside his cigar as he wondered if her memories were resurfacing.

Although Abigail found his questions a bit annoying since he had no answered any of her questions, but she did her best to respond and instead of continuing with her phone she set it down and signed her response to him so that she could watch him carefully for any sign of deceit.

[In the nightmare I'm really young and I can talk. I'm sitting in the backseat of a car with an older lady. A young lady is driving the car and an older man is in the passenger seat with her. She calls me Dawn…"

As Abigail told him about the nightmare, she deliberately left out the part about the gunshot since she first wanted to see how much he'd tell her if she told him just about the accident.

As she explained the other details of her dream, a vein throbbed in Ryan's temple despite his best attempt to look cool and unaffected by her narration.

Ryan said nothing as he watched her and after she was done he exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. He stood up and walked to the bookshelf, running his fingers along the spines as if searching for something.

He remained silent as he gathered his thoughts. He knew he had to give her a response. A good response so that she would open up to him again next time she remembered something.

He needed her to believe that he was honest Confirming she could trust him, so he had to give her a substantial amount of truth and mix it up with just enough lies so she wouldn't suspect a thing.

"When did you start having the nightmares?" he asked.

Although Abigail knew what he was asking and she knew she probably should tell him it has been over seven weeks ago after she first moved to Blue York, she didn't.

Instead she typed on her text to speech app.[Two nights ago.]

"Did you talk to anyone else about it? Genevieve? The house staff?"

[No.]

Ryan was relieved to hear that. He was glad to know that she had spoken to him about it and had not gone to anyone else. That had to mean that she still trusted him.

For a long moment, the room was silent except for the faint ticking of the clock on the wall.

When he finally turned to face her, something in his eyes had changed. There was hesitation. Guilt.

"You weren't born mute," he admitted quietly.

Abigail's breath hitched. She had suspected it, but hearing it confirmed sent a chill down her spine.

He had lied to her all these years?

[Then what happened to my voice? Why did you make me believe I was born mute?] she typed, her fingers shaking.

Ryan hesitated again, his mouth pressing into a firm line.

"It's… complicated."

Abigail's stomach twisted.

[Please tell me the truth. What happened to me?]

Ryan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "The truth," he murmured. He looked at her for a long time before finally speaking again.

"You were in that crash, Abigail. And so was, Genevieve. Genevieve is Dawn. You were in the crash together, and the people you saw there were her mom and grandparents…"

Abigail immediately typed on her phone, [Genevieve wasn't there in the dream.]

Ryan sighed. "She was. I'm not sure why you can't recall Genevieve being in the car. But I've been waiting for years to see if you'd finally regain your memory…"

[What happened to my voice? Why did you lie to me when you should have told me the truth?]

"Because I didn't want to talk about it. The memory was too painful for me. For everyone. You caused the accident," he said, and Abigail's jaws dropped as her eyes widened in shock.

"I'm sure you've always wondered why Genevieve hates you and why I'm a little distant. The accident was your fault. Genevieve lost her mom and grandparents at such an early age because of you. After the accident you lost your voice. I did all I could to help you regain it. I took you to series of therapy and you even had surgery while Genevieve also received treatment. But no matter how much we tried you never spoke again since then. The last time we checked the doctor said you were permanently mute and nothing could be done, so I gave up."

It all made sense now, why they seemed to hate her so much, Abigail thought.