Chapter 29: J.J

Chapter 29 - J.J The doctor's kind smile did nothing to calm Abigail's nerves as she paced from one end of the doctor's office to the other, a worried frown on her face. She was too worried to relax. Fear gnawed at the edges of her mind. Had she done enough to protect herself? Had she covered her tracks well enough? It was time to return to Westend. She needed to return. She had no choice. Not when Josh was over there alone with Ryan and Genevieve. Although she knew he was being well taken care of, but that didn't change the fact that she needed to establish her presence in her son's life. She was smart and knew enough to know that she couldn't trust Ryan and his bullshit. Josh was being raised by someone he was in no way related to and she knew Ryan had an ulterior motive for adopting Josh as his. She had found out four years ago that Ryan wasn't her biological father as he claimed all this while. During his visit after she had Josh, she had taken the cutlery set he used and sent it with her sample for a DNA test and it had been confirmed that the man she had called her father all her life was not her father. But the real question remained: if he wasn't her father, who was he? What was he hiding? Why was he trying so hard to keep her hidden? She had tried to keep being the good girl and playing along all these years, pretending she no longer had nightmares or remembered anything about five years ago. But she remembered more now. She was Dawn. Her name had been Dawn Wealth, and her mother had been nobody's maid. Her problem now was that she couldn't find any more information on herself and her background. Why couldn't she find out anything about the past despite how deep she dug? Had he really buried it all? Was there no way she could find something helpful to help her know who her biological parents were? And just how dangerous was Ryan? What would he do to her if he found out all she was up to? What would he do if she openly defied him? She couldn't afford to make any rash decisions especially now that he had Josh. Her stomach churned. She had been patient enough. She needed to find out everything before he discovered she had been lying to him. Before he realized she had faked the plastic surgery. A deep sigh from behind her made her pause. Dr. Diana reclined against her desk, arms crossed, watching Abigail with quiet concern. After leaving Westend five years ago, they had agreed that she couldn't have a plastic surgery immediately because she was pregnant. And seeing how willing she had seemed to do the surgery, Ryan had given her the liberty to find a good surgeon over there in Westend herself after the birth of her baby. Abigail still remembered the day she walked into Dr Diana's office for the first time. She never would have guessed how helpful and instrumental Dr Diana would be in her life over the years. She had taken a risk and explained her situation to Dr. Diana since she had no idea about her family background. "I can tell you do not want it. Don't do it. You'd be living with that face for the rest of your life, honey. Unlike changing the color of your hair, this would be a permanent change. You don't want to live with a face you don't like or do something you'll regret. If ever you want to do it, it should be because you want it not because daddy says so," Dr Diana had advised, and then she had suggested she don't get any surgery done immediately and instead she could use a hyper realistic mask for the meantime until she made up her mind whether or not she wanted to change anything about her face. And just like that she had helped her get the masks and Abigail had been wearing them for four years. Abigail looked at the doctor now, her expression strained with fear as she typed on her text to speech app, [What if he finds out I've been fooling him this whole time? What if he realize I've been wearing a mask?] "Abigail, you need to breathe," Dr. Diana said, her voice gentle but firm. "You've come too far to panic now. Unless of course you want me to perform the surgery now." Dr. Diana's lips twitched in mild amusement when Abigail began to type again. "They won't. Trust me," she said before Abigail could finish typing. "And stop typing when you can talk to me." Abigail nodded slowly and exhaled, "But how can you be so sure?" She pressed, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's one thing to wear the mask for a few hours when they visit, or for a video call. But how do I keep up the ruse when I have to live under the same roof with them?" Dr. Diana stood, and walked toward Abigail. She stopped in front of her and placed her hands on Abigail's shoulders. "The new set is ready. This one is different, Abigail. It's made by an expert who has been helping a close friend of mine for years. You'll be able to wear it comfortably for much longer." Abigail swallowed, uncertainty still gripping her. "Twenty-four hours?" "If need be, yes. But I doubt you'd be under surveillance for twenty-four hours. I think your biggest issue should be hiding the fact that you can now speak from them." Dr. Diana gave her a knowing look. "That should be the easiest part. Hardly anyone knows the truth. I still prefer to type and sign rather than waste my words on people." She had kept up the charade for years, leading everyone to believe she was still mute. Only her speech therapist and Dr Diana had seen her speaking. The only other people that heard her voice were those who followed her anonymous podcast channel and they didn't know who she was. Dr. Diana sighed, crossing her arms. "I'm going to miss you." A small, genuine smile flickered across Abigail's face. "I'll miss you too," she admitted, hugging the older lady who had been like a mother to her. "I wouldn't have made it this far without your help." Dr. Diana smiled, "I'm so glad you can speak more fluently now. Call me as often and whenever you can, okay? No texts. Call!" Abigail chuckled softly. "Sure, I will. It's all thanks to your 'regular check-ups' that I was able to secretly meet with my speech therapist after all." "I'm just glad I could help." Her smile wavered for a moment. "I hope you will be fine." Dr. Diana reached out, squeezing her hand. Abigail nodded, her chest tightening at the thought of leaving. But one thought overshadowed everything else— her son. "I'm happy to go back though," she whispered. "I need to be with my son." Dr. Diana's smile widened. "Yes. A mother shouldn't be away from her child. I'm happy that you finally get to be with him." A knock at the door interrupted them. "I think that's your package." Abigail barely breathed as Dr. Diana's secretary brought in the little box and they opened it. The moment she caught sight of the hyper-realistic masks, she gasped. They were softer, more flexible than her previous ones. She reached out, running her fingers over the material. It felt like real skin. "These must cost a lot," Abigail said, and Dr Diana laughed. "They do. They're custom-made for you," she explained. "You won't need adhesives anymore. They'll stick to your skin naturally. Consider this my send-forth gift to you." Abigail looked up at her, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you, Diana. This is the most thou gift ever." Dr. Diana squeezed her shoulder. "Just promise me you'll be careful." "I will," Abigail assured her as she put on one of the masks. True to her words it stuck to her face without adhesives and once again she looked like a different person with her black hair. As she stepped into her car where the driver was waiting, she pulled out her phone and opened her podcast channel— one she had established solely to practice how to speak but had ended up becoming a sensation and garnering quite a number of followers. She had informed her followers that she was taking a break and might not be able to give them any contents for a while. A small smile formed on her lips as she read the latest comment—from J.J. [I hope the break wouldn't be too long. Your voice is the first thing I listen to in the morning and the last I hear at night. Come back soon.] He—or she— was one of her biggest fans. She had never been able to tell for sure, but something about the tone of the messages always made her suspect J.J. was male. She sighed, wondering how she would keep up with her podcast after returning to Westend especially with Genevieve so near. She had spent so many years free from Genevieve's presence, only exchanging occasional texts. Now, after five years, she had to face her again. Would she be able to keep up the act? Could she tolerate Genevieve long enough to uncover the truth? Her phone vibrated in her hand. A new text. She frowned at the unknown number, one that had been reaching out at intervals over the years. They never responded to her messages or picked up her calls. Her breath hitched as she read the message: [I hear you're coming back soon. Let's meet. I think it's time you know the truth about yourself, Dawn.]