Chapter 23: Experience?
Later that evening, Jamal lay on his bed, one arm behind his head, staring at the ceiling. His room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the lamp on his nightstand. The air smelled faintly of fresh linen and the lingering scent of his cologne.
Since it was late in the night, the house was quiet, the kind of silence that made his thoughts louder.
And right now, all his thoughts were on Abigail.
He wondered how she was doing. If her stepsister was still making her life miserable. If she was adjusting to school. If she thought of him or missed him the way he missed her.
It frustrated him not knowing.
He hated being this powerless, unable to just show up at her doorstep and take her away from whatever mess she was stuck in.
Mari's suggestion from earlier replayed in his head. Getting someone to sketch Abigail and using that to track her down wasn't a bad idea.
It wasn't like he was broadcasting her face for dangerous reasons— she wasn't a fugitive, she was just a girl he cared about.
And they were going to go about it the smart way by having Mari act like she was the one who knew Abigail.
That shouldn't cause any trouble for Abigail. There was nothing wrong with a female friend reaching out to her. Her family certainly wouldn't give her trouble over that.
Even so, a part of him wasn't completely convinced but that was the only option left to try.