Who Is Abigail?

The car was silent as Jamal drove, and they both kept stealing glances at each other through the rearview mirror.

Their eyes met.

It was brief at first. A stolen glance and they both looked away.

Then another.

Each time, the space between them seemed to shrink despite the physical distance in the car.

Neither of them spoke. It was like they were both waiting for the other to say something first. To initiate the conversation they needed to have.

The weight of unspoken words, of unanswered questions, of shared history, lingered between them like an invisible thread pulling them closer.

Jamal's hands were steady on the wheel as he did his best to focus on the road ahead. Abigail on the other hand held tightly to the strap of her handbag, her gaze flickering between the passing streets and the rearview mirror.