Chapter 245 Pearl Haymitch
Sebastian’s POV
I held Abigail’s gaze and forced my voice cold, even as my heart slammed against my ribs. "You’ve got half an hour. Start talking."
Abigail lifted her tear-streaked face, then moved toward me. Before I could step back, she threw herself into my arms, her body shaking with sobs.
"Sebastian, it’s been three years. Three years, my heart breaking a little more every single day. Do you want to know who did this to us? Your father. Titus. Do you know my parents are dead? Do you know who killed them? Your mother. Mila."
The words hit like a freight train. My mind went blank for a second, then roared back with a fury I hadn’t felt in years.
"What the hell are you talking about?" I shoved her away. In my head, Ryder snarled, confused and angry.
"She’s lying," Ryder growled. "Our parents would never."
"I need to hear this," I cut him off.
Abigail stumbled back, tears streaming down her face. "I’m not lying. Sebastian, please. Just hear me out."
I clenched my fists so hard my nails bit into my palms. "Then talk. Fast."
She pulled in a shaky breath and dragged the back of her hand across her eyes. "Four years ago, when you first brought me home, your father kept giving me this look. When you weren’t around, he asked my mother’s name. I didn’t think anything of it, so I told him. Pearl Haymitch. The second I said it, his face shut down. After that, every time I came by, he was cold. Hostile. Then one day, out of nowhere, he asked me to meet him at a coffee shop."
My jaw tightened. "And?"
"He told me to leave you." Her voice cracked. "Just like that. No explanation. When I refused, when I demanded to know why, do you know what he said?"
I said nothing. My throat felt like it was closing up.
"He said Pearl Haymitch’s daughter had no business marrying into the Simons family." Fresh tears spilled over. "Just for being her daughter, I had to walk away from you. I didn’t understand. I asked him what happened between him and my mother, but he wouldn’t tell me. Told me to go home and ask her myself. And then he warned me. If I said a word of it to you, he’d burn my family to the ground."
"Bullshit," I said flatly. "My father would never."
"I went home out of my mind," Abigail cut in, her voice rising. "I went straight to my mother and demanded answers. She was shocked. Furious. She told me not to waste a second worrying about Titus, called him a heartless son of a bitch. Then she told me the truth. Thirty years ago, your father slept with her. And then he walked away and never looked back."
The room tilted. The floor felt like it had been ripped out from under me.
"That’s why he wanted me gone," Abigail went on, the words tumbling out faster now. "He was terrified it would all come out if we got married. That everyone would find out what kind of man he really was. After my mother told me everything, I stopped caring about his threats. Ten days later, he wanted to meet again. This time he came with money. A lot of it. He wanted to buy me off. I told him no. I told him I wasn’t with you for the money, that I loved you for who you were. I swore I’d keep his secret. He still wouldn’t take it. He still wanted me gone."
My hands were shaking. I shoved them in my pockets to hide it.
"And then something happened to my family." Abigail’s voice dropped to a whisper. "At first I didn’t tie it to your father. But I should have."
"What happened?" My voice came out rougher than I meant it to.
"It was pouring that night. My dad was driving home from a delivery, trying to beat the storm. He took a back road, one he’d driven a hundred times. But that night a drunk stepped right out in front of the truck. He didn’t have time to brake. The guy went under. Died on impact."
My stomach turned.
"My dad panicked," Abigail went on, her voice hollow now. "There was so much blood he couldn’t even make out the man’s face. The body reeked of liquor. He sat there a long time, trying to decide whether to call 911. In the end he was too scared of prison. So he drove off. He came home covered in blood. My mom and I lost it. He broke down and told us everything. Nobody slept that night. Come morning he wanted to turn himself in, but my mom stopped him. She loved him too much to watch him go to prison. She kept saying it was the middle of nowhere, no cameras, no witnesses. Keep quiet and no one would ever know."
Abigail’s hands twisted together, knuckles white.
"The next few days, we were jumping at every sound. Every siren, we thought they were coming for us. Every time the news came on, we braced for a story about the accident. But a week went by, nothing, and we let ourselves believe we’d gotten away with it."
She looked up at me, and the hatred in her eyes ran cold down my spine.
"But something like that never stays buried. Someone found out. And that someone was your father."
My chest went tight. "What are you saying?"
"The third time he called me in, he tossed a stack of photos on the table. My dad hitting that man. The body. I panicked. I asked him where he got them. He said it didn’t matter. What mattered was that my father had killed a man. And then he laid out the deal. He’d bury it. Make the whole thing go away. As long as I left you."
I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. The room spun.
"Why didn’t you come to me?" The words came out strangled. "Why didn’t you tell me while it was happening?"