Rebirth: A Second chance at life
Chapter 107: Who is Abigail?

Chapter 107: Who is Abigail?

As the call disconnected, she leaned back and started the car. The engine growled softly to life, a sound like a predator waking.

Earlier that evening, while reviewing the fragmented reports she had managed to gather on Helen Smith—her elusive grandmother—something peculiar had surfaced.

Not a fact, but a person. A name buried in a tangle of sealed records and redacted files: Abigail Kristoffa.

It wasn’t listed prominently. In fact, it was hidden so deep within an archived export ledger, Aurora almost missed it.

But her instincts screamed otherwise. This woman wasn’t just another forgotten name—she was part of the puzzle Helen had tried so hard to keep hidden.

Helen—or whatever her real name was—had met this woman frequently, in secret. It wasn’t documented through any family channels, but Aurora’s resources had never failed her.

What made it more curious was that Abigail had once been deeply connected to Queen Group, even serving as personal secretary to the chairperson.

Then things got strange.

Why would she meet Helen in secret? Was Helen somehow connected to the Chairperson of Queen Group...?

The thought itself was unsettling. And then there was something even stranger—something that didn’t sit right.

A year after Helen’s death, Abigail Kristoffa was abruptly fired from her high-ranking position, without explanation.

Not long after, she was arrested—accused of leaking corporate secrets. She spent ten long years rotting in prison, her name erased from the industry she once held power in.

And then, two years ago, she vanished without a trace.

Until tonight—when Aurora unearthed the chilling truth.

Abigail Kristoffa had been trafficked.

By none other than Calvert Harrison.

He had personally picked her up from the prison and had her shipped directly.

Aurora traced their connection, searched every thread, every log, but that was the only time their paths had crossed. The first and the last.

Aurora’s hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as the road blurred under the headlights. Her thoughts spiraled—but remained sharp, focused.

This woman, Abigail... she wasn’t just a pawn. She was the missing thread that Helen had tried to keep hidden. And now, that thread had resurfaced soaked in secrets, blood, and betrayal.

She reached her mansion and got out of her car. The cold ocean breeze hit her skin, brushing past like a ghost.

After stepping out, she stretched her arms and rolled her shoulders, trying to shake off the tension that had built up during the drive.

The mansion stood silent before her, bathed in moonlight, every window a reflection of secrets waiting to be unearthed.

She walked toward her room, her boots clicking softly against the polished stone floor.

But just as she reached for her door, she almost collided into a firm, unyielding chest.

The sudden impact startled her, and for a moment, she was engulfed in a scent—pinewood and mint

, cool and distant, yet unmistakably familiar. Sebastian.

Although Aurora was tall—nearly 5’7"—Sebastian stood much taller, at least 6’1".

Standing this close, her line of sight caught only the solid expanse of his chest and broad shoulders.

When she tilted her head up to meet his eyes, their faces were inches apart. So close that if either of them moved, even slightly, their lips would have brushed.

Aurora’s breath caught in her throat. Her heart slammed once, hard, against her ribcage. Why the hell is my heart beating so fast? she thought, scolding herself inwardly.

She hated this. Hated the loss of control—even if it was fleeting.

She stepped back quickly, smoothing the tension from her face like a veil. Her voice came out crisp, cool.

"Mr. Harper, I assume something is quite urgent for you to show up... in the middle of the night."

The moonlight filtered through the large glass windows behind them, casting a silver glow over their figures.

If anyone had been watching closely, they might’ve noticed the slight redness coloring the tips of both their ears—or how neither of them seemed to breathe for a few seconds.

Sebastian didn’t respond right away. His eyes briefly drifted to the still-warm hood of her car, then returned to her with quiet sharpness.

"It seems Ms. Smith is quite... occupied," he said coolly, voice laced with meaning.

Aurora caught the implication, but chose not to acknowledge it. She didn’t like people prying into her personal space or movements, especially not when they struck too close to her night agendas.

"You’re welcome to stay here tonight," she said, tone composed. "Jenny will probably be more at ease knowing you’re close."

Sebastian exhaled slowly and stepped inside behind her. "I’ve discovered who poisoned Jenny," he said, his voice low, tight with restrained guilt.

"But not who ordered it. My driver... and the head maid. Darla. She raised me."

Aurora paused mid-step, her brow furrowing. "Someone that close..."

He nodded. "She was my nanny. Appointed by my grandmother. I was in high school when she came.

Always kind, always patient. Played the role perfectly. But she was waiting. Planning. They couldn’t get to me—so they chose Jenny."

Aurora’s jaw tensed. "If they were after you, why risk hurting a child?"

Sebastian turned to her fully, the weight of it all heavy in his voice. "Because I was trained for threats.

Every meal I eat is checked. I cook when I can. I don’t trust outside food. But Jenny? She was innocent

Defenseless. They couldn’t find a way past me—so they went for the one person I’d protect without question."

Aurora remained silent for a moment. She had seen cruelty, manipulation, betrayal in its purest forms... but something about this felt personal.

Jenny—her innocence, her laughter, the way she had started trusting Aurora—it had pierced through the walls Aurora had built around herself.

Her gaze met Sebastian’s, calm but burning with promise. "I’ll help you find the one behind this, Mr. Harper."

Sebastian blinked, momentarily stunned. He hadn’t expected her to offer. He knew how guarded she was.

He also doubted whether even she could unravel what he, with all his resources, couldn’t. But her determination stirred something in him.

"Thank you, Ms. Smith," he said sincerely.

Aurora turned slightly and called out, "Margaret, prepare a guest room for Mr. Harper."

Then she looked back at him, her tone soft but firm. "Be my guest. The three of us can have breakfast together tomorrow."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and disappeared into the hallway.

Sebastian stood for a moment, watching the path she took. He almost declined—almost—but something rooted him there.

Something in her voice... or maybe something in her eyes. He followed the maid quietly, a small, thoughtful smile tugging at his lips.

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