Chapter 701

The next morning, when Jane rubbed her sleepy eyes and got out of bed, she saw Dora stepping out of her walk-in closet with a gentle, loving smile, holding neatly folded clothes for her. Jane's chubby hands, which had been rubbing her eyes, froze mid-motion. Her large, glistening eyes dark as obsidian lit up with delight as she gazed at Auntie Dora. "Auntie, you're back! Is Sister Abigail feeling better now?" Dora placed the clothes on the bedside table and, at the mention of Abigail, her smile softened even more. She reached out to pat Jane's head. "Yes, she's fully recovered now, so I came back to work." "Did Sister Abigail come with you?" Jane had already considered the situation Dora had no close relatives left, and Abigail's father had long since abandoned her. If Dora returned to work without bringing Abigail along, the girl would be left completely alone. Given Abigail's fragile mental state, prolonged isolation could worsen her condition. Dora replied, "No, she's very understanding. She knows I have to work, so she agreed to stay home by herself." Noticing the concern on Jane's face, she quickly added, "Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’re not living in that old tenement building you visited anymore. I rented a small one-bedroom apartment in a proper residential complex. It’s safe for her to stay alone." Jane was startled Dora didn’t seem to grasp that the real danger wasn’t the environment. It was Abigail herself. Her alternate personality was dangerously unstable. If that side of her took control while she was alone, there was no telling what she might do. Panicked that Abigail might harm herself, Jane didn’t waste time explaining. She hastily threw on the clothes Dora had laid out, not even bothering to comb her hair, and tugged at the woman’s sleeve. "Auntie, hurry we need to go to your place now!" Dora looked bewildered, but Jane met her gaze earnestly. "There’s no time to explain. Please, just come with me. I’ll tell you everything in the car." As she pulled Dora toward the door, they nearly collided with Samuel, who had come looking for Jane the moment Mina mentioned she was awake. Though overjoyed to see Samuel, Jane had no time for affection. Her tiny feet shuffled impatiently as she blurted, "Brother Samuel, we have to get to Auntie Dora’s house right away. Sister Abigail’s alone she could be in danger!" Samuel didn't hesitate for a second. Scooping Jane into his arms, he declared, "Then Brother Samuel will go with you." Dora was already on edge, her nerves frayed. After finally reuniting with her long-lost daughter, the mere thought of anything happening to her now was unbearable. Samuel took the wheel while Jane and Dora sat in the backseat. Dora wrung her hands anxiously, her knuckles turning white. "Jane, why would Abigail be in danger alone at home? What's going on?" "Auntie Dora, remember what I told you before? It's like there are two people living inside Abigail's body," Jane explained, her voice earnest. "These past few days when I asked about her, you always said she was gentle, well-behaved, and sensible. But that's just one side of her." "There's another side one that's extreme. When she befriended me, she demanded to be my only friend. She knows exactly how much damage regularly donating blood to Adrianna does to her body, yet she keeps doing it without hesitation. All because she believes she's the only one who matters to Adrianna." "When she first woke up in the hospital, it was that side of her in control. The moment she realized Adrianna was just manipulating her, that her mother had taught her to coax and use Abigail without truly seeing her as a friend or sister she completely broke down. I had to reassure her that no matter what, she would always be your one and only. Only then did she calm down, and her gentle side took over again." "But now that you've left her alone at home... I'm afraid that other side might resurface. She might feel abandoned all over again." Dora's face paled. Though Jane had warned her repeatedly, Abigail had been so sweet and obedient since coming home far more mature than any child her age. It had lulled Dora into thinking leaving her alone would be fine. But now... Meanwhile, back in Dora's rented apartment at Phoenix Heights, Abigail stood stone-faced in the kitchen. Her cold eyes fixed on the gleaming cleaver hanging on the wall. Rising onto her tiptoes, she strained to reach it, her small fingers closing around the handle with unsettling determination. The moment she grasped the kitchen knife, her indifferent expression abruptly twisted into horror. Staring at the blade in her hand, she flung it to the floor with a clatter. Then she bolted to the bedroom, curling into a trembling ball on the bed. Tears gushed down her cheeks like water from a broken faucet as she whispered brokenly, "Why... why? Why would you want to die? We found Mom now... we're back with her. She's so good to us... We can grow up safe... be happy like other kids..." Moments later, her face hardened again. "Liar! You're all liars! Said I was your only one, but you still abandoned me... locked me here alone." Her voice dropped to a hollow whisper. "Nobody wants me. Nobody loves me. Nobody will ever..." She rose mechanically, drifting back toward the kitchen. The glinting knife still lay on the floor. She picked it up effortlessly, her eyes reflecting a weariness far beyond her years. As she pressed the cold steel against her wrist— The front door lock clicked. She startled violently. The icy resolve shattered into panic once more, the knife slipping from her fingers just as Dora pushed the door open. The metallic clang of the falling blade sent Dora sprinting into the kitchen. There she found Abigail backing away from the knife, her small frame shaking uncontrollably. Dora swept the child into a crushing embrace. "Abigail! What's wrong, baby?" The girl clung to her with desperate strength, tiny hands fisting in Dora's shirt. "Mama..." The single word dissolved into heaving sobs, tears raining down like scattered pearls. From the doorway, Jane let out a shaky breath, eyes darting between the discarded knife and Abigail's trembling form safely cocooned in Dora's arms. Close call. But they'd made it in time.