Chapter Three
Abby
***Two Months Later***
I hate the quiet.
It’s lonely.
I’m lonely.
“Hey, honey. Want to have lunch with me?”
I smile brightly at my brother and step into the hug he offers.
“I’d love to,” I say, and I mean it. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too, Abigail,” he says. “I really wish you hadn’t moved out. I’m always worried about you, and I never have time to stop by and see you.”
“It’s okay,” I tell him gently, leading him toward the staircase that goes up to my apartment.
When I told Bubby I was moving out…regardless of his orders not to…he compromised. He had the upper floor of the shop renovated so I could stay there until I decided to come back home…His words.
I’d only ever used this space for storage, but now it has plumbing, heat, and everything else I need to survive.
It’s my very own place.
It’s cute. It’s safe. It’s quiet.
I hate it.
I miss my brother. I miss my friends. I miss being part of the Shadows.
Out here, I’m just Abby.
The only people I really see anymore are Lila, Cody, Eli, and Skip. Sometimes Sunny comes down, but when she’s not working, she’s busy helping get the compound ready for the Christmas fundraiser.
I even called Riley to ask if they needed help. She told me everything was under control.
I tried texting the group chat too, but they barely message back anymore.
I know it’s not because they don’t care. I know how busy Christmas gets for them. With kids and couples and everything else, it’s chaos in the best way.
Lila told me last week they’re getting a massive tree to put up in the center of the compound. I love that idea so much, and it hurts knowing I won’t see it.
But I can’t be upset.
Moving was my choice.
I keep telling myself that, eventually, things will get better.
Right now, though, it feels like I lost more than Tank.
It feels like I lost everyone.
When I lived at the compound, I didn’t go out much. I’m an introvert, and I prefer being home. But I never realized how much the noise mattered.
The laughter. The engines. The voices.
It was a constant reminder that I wasn’t alone. That I wasn’t trapped in that hole anymore.
I knew my brother was next door. I knew Tank was only a few houses down.
And no matter how he felt about us, he always made sure I felt safe.
Slowly, the nightmares faded. I started leaving the house. Making friends.
Living again.
Now… It’s quiet.
The very thing I thought I wanted.
I wanted distance from Tank. I wanted peace. I wanted silence.
I got all of it.
And what else did I get?
The nightmares are back.
Mine aren’t random monsters or shadowy fears. They’re memories…relentless, vivid, and impossible to escape.
Pieces of a past that refuses to stay buried.
“Little sister.”
I blink and refocus on my brother.
“I’m sorry,” I say with a small smile. “What did you say?”
“Is everything alright?” he asks. “You zoned out. I haven’t seen you do that in over a year.”
“Just got a lot on my mind,” I admit lightly. “So… lunch?”
“How are you sleeping?” he asks, ignoring my attempt to redirect into a less scary topic.
“Upside down, like a bat,” I joke, forcing a smile. “Now come on. I’m starving.”
Bubby studies me for a long moment, his eyes searching my face like he already knows the answer.
Then he sighs softly and nods, deciding, for now, not to press the issue.
We pass the stairs to my apartment and exit the building.
“I’ve been thinking,” I say as we walk down the street toward my favorite dairy bar. “I want to take a vacation. Maybe go visit Sammy.”
“Don’t you have dresses to finish?” he asks.
“Only one,” I admit. “I already finished that wedding dress order for the mom and her daughter.”
“Already?” He stops so abruptly I almost run into him. He glares down at me. “Riley said that would take you five months. It’s only been two.”
“That was before I moved above my shop,” I say without thinking. “Now I can work as long as I want.”
“Abigail Turner,” he says slowly. “You finished a five-month order in two months?”
“Actually,” I correct, planting my hands on my hips, “I finished it in five weeks. Which is technically less than two months. And what’s it to you anyway? I’m an adult, Ethan. I can make my own decisions.”
“Apparently not very good ones,” he snaps. “You look fucking exhausted, Abigail. And you’re way too fucking skinny. You need to come home.”
The words hit hard.
Before I can unleash the angry response burning on my tongue, his phone rings.
“What?” he answers sharply. Then…“Fuck. I’ll be there in ten.”
He ends the call without taking his eyes off me and points back toward my shop.
“Go home,” he orders. “I’ll order you food. You need to eat and sleep. Don’t fucking open that shop tomorrow.”
He doesn’t wait for an answer.
He just turns and walks away.
And here I am again.
Alone.
Please turn back around and yell at me.
At least then I wouldn’t feel so invisible.
***One week later***
“How’s the Christmas fundraiser going?” I ask Lila between customers. “Need any help?”
“Nah,” she says with a kind smile. “Me, Riley, and Sunny sat on our asses yesterday and told the guys how to decorate the tree. It was comical watching them argue over where the ornaments should go.”
“Oh,” I say, keeping my smile in place. “That’s nice.”
“Yeah,” she laughs. “This morning, before I left, they were trying to figure out how to add lights to the compound walls. Spike was adamant it would look stupid, but Riley just gave him those sad eyes, and he caved.”
“Yeah,” I say. “He’ll give her just about anything she asks for.” I clear my throat. “So… how are the kids?”
“They’re good,” she says. “Bree is ready to visit Santa, and Micah is trying to convince Max to let the golden retrievers live in the house.”
“I thought Skip made them their own place,” I say, thinking of the two little pups who were basically the newest Shadows before I left.
“He did, but they keep scratching at everyone’s doors because they want in.” She grins. “Oh, speaking of doors. Eli finally decided on a color for his.”
My chest tightens.
I smile anyway, remembering the day Riley and I painted the doors. Mine had been light purple with darker shades blended in. Riley’s was teal and pink. Sunny’s yellow and black.
I started that tradition because all the houses looked the same. Too uniform. Too cultish.
“What did he choose?” I ask.
“Red and white,” she laughs. “Sunny tried to convince him to turn it into a whole art piece and paint Santa on it, but he said he didn’t want to repaint his door every holiday.”
“Yeah,” I say softly. “I get that.”
A customer comes up to the counter, and I step away to ring them out, then move through the shop to straighten displays and refold sweaters.
“So,” Lila says once the customer leaves, “I was thinking, with the fundraiser coming up, I might need to take the next couple of weeks off. If that’s okay. I know you’ve got online orders, but the shop hasn’t been too busy.”
Actually, the shop has been very busy.
But I don’t tell her that.
My posted hours are nine to five. But once Lila leaves, I stay open until I’m ready to crawl upstairs and collapse. For weeks, I worked through the wedding gowns. Now I’ve started on the larger dress for the end-of-year wedding order.
And oddly enough, most of my customers come in after six. Christmas shoppers who thank me for staying open because they can never make it here after work.
“Yeah,” I say. “That’s no problem.”
“You’re the best,” she smiles. “But if things get crazy, just call me, and I’ll come back.”
I nod, because I know she means it.
At six o’clock, Max pulls up. Lila waves goodbye, hops into the car, and they drive off together.
And here I am again.
Alone.
***Two Weeks Later***
Eli stops by late afternoon. I’m always closed on Sundays, but my door is still unlocked because I have a delivery service on its way to pick up some packages.
“There you are,” he says softly, pulling me into a hug. “I wanted to see you before things get crazy again.”
I breathe him in like I’ve been holding my breath all day.
“I’m glad you came,” I say. “I was starting to think I imagined having friends.”
He chuckles, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes. Guilt, maybe. Or just knowing.
We sit on the couch for a few minutes, knees touching, talking about nothing important. The shop. The weather. A fabric shipment that came in late. Normal things. Safe things.
Then his phone buzzes.
He glances down and sighs. “I’ve gotta go.”
Already?
“The fundraiser?” I ask, even though I already know.
“Yeah,” he says. “They’re doing another run-through before tomorrow. Spike also changed Christmas with everyone to the day after, just in case you forgot.”
My heart pounds with excitement at the thought of seeing everyone, including Tank, and I smile a real smile for the first time in weeks.
“I remember,” I say lightly. “Thanks for reminding me, though.”
He nods, relieved. “Good. I didn’t want you thinking you were missing anything.”
I swallow.
“Well,” I say, forcing brightness into my voice, “do you need help with anything?”
Eli hesitates, then shakes his head. “Honestly? Everything’s planned. Like… really planned. There’s no need for you to come out there and bore yourself right along with us.”
He means it kindly. I know that.
“Yeah,” I say. “That makes sense.”
I walk him to the door. He hugs me again, tighter this time.
“I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“I know,” I say. “Have fun.”
He heads down the stairs, already pulling his phone back out as the door clicks shut behind him.
The apartment goes quiet.
I stand there for a moment, staring at the closed door, listening to the sounds of the street below. Cars passing. Voices drifting away.
Everyone going somewhere else.
I sink back onto the couch and wrap my arms around myself.
It’s not that they don’t love me. And I know they didn’t forget me.
But it sure is starting to feel like it.
It’s not like I haven’t been reaching out. I have. I’ve messaged someone every day. And the responses are always short and sweet. If I get one at all.
I hear Skip’s bike drive away with my best friend on the back, and I close my eyes and pray that I’m just being paranoid and that everything is just my imagination going wild.
But my heart tells me that it’s not.
So, I sit here, and I cry…alone.
***One Day Later***
“Hey, guys. Just checking in. Miss you. Can’t wait to see you all tomorrow.”
I stare down at the message I sent this morning and let the tears fall.
Riley: Miss you, too.
Sunny: I’ll try to come by for a visit later today.
Lila: I’ll be back at work next week.
Eli: I just saw you yesterday, silly woman.
It’s probably just my imagination.
But it feels like I’m being forgotten.
I stand at the compound gate, watching with bated breath as my family sits around the outdoor Christmas tree, laughing and opening gifts together.
My throat tightens.
I look down at the pile of presents I just pulled from the taxi and have to blink hard to keep from crying all over again. I was told Christmas would be tomorrow…the day after Christmas…because everyone would be exhausted from the fundraiser and needed a day to clean up and breathe.
My plan was simple. Drop off the gifts today so I wouldn’t have to worry about it tomorrow.
Instead, here I stand with my arms full of presents…and there they are, already celebrating.
“Hey, Abby-girl,” Mike says from the gate’s security box. “You’re late.”
“I came to drop these off so I didn’t have to carry them, plus the food. I thought we weren’t doing this until tomorrow?” I ask, gesturing to the group.
Mike is… Mike. He doesn’t always think before he speaks, which is usually how he ends up on gate duty.
“They changed their minds,” he says with a frown. “Maverick has to leave tonight to go do whatever shit the leader of an Italian mafia does on Christmas, and they didn’t want him to miss this. Didn’t you get the message last night?”
“I must’ve overlooked it,” I lie smoothly. “I’ve been so busy I hardly ever check my phone.”
I shift the bags in my arms and place them on the ground next to the others. “Listen, I need to head back to the shop. Can you give these to everyone? Yours is in there somewhere, too.”
“Abby, wait,” he says. “Are you okay?”
“Never better,” I lie again, climbing back into the waiting taxi. “Merry Christmas, Mikey.”
I shut the door, the car pulls away, and I will myself not to cry as a stranger drives me back to my apartment, where I spend Christmas exactly the way I’ve been living lately.
Alone.