Lynette was surprised by how Abigail had so many words and she could not open up until she saw money.
"We were all made to believe he had no family," Abigail continued, eyes wide. "Even your parents had his background investigated. It checked out—everything said he was orphaned."
Abigail leaned in closer, lowering her voice to a whisper.
"But then… I heard something strange. You mentioned his grandfather. And he said something about yours. I didn't catch all of it, just pieces… but what I heard clearly—what I remember clearly—was this…"
"Was what" Lynette asked curiously.
Abigail met her gaze.
"'Let's get a divorce,'" she whispered.
"What? Divorce?" Lynette's voice cracked with disbelief. "I asked for a divorce? When was this—two years ago?"
In her mind, Lynette daelan and Arian Csepel were a perfect match. He'd been nothing but caring and attentive since she returned. The idea that their relationship had once unraveled was… jarring.
Abigail's voice dropped low. "It was last month."
Lynette felt the words crash into her like cold water. Last month? Not years ago, but barely weeks before her disappearance.
Her thoughts raced.
Kevin Gael suspects Arian… Could this be why? Did he find out about the divorce talk?
She swallowed hard. "So… no one really knows about his family? Whether they're alive or dead? Is that why some of the relatives dislike him?"
Abigail shook her head slightly. "No, I don't think you ever told them. If you had, the estate would've been in chaos over Arian.
They already look down on him—not because of anything he's done, but because he isn't from wealth. You chose him, and that was enough to make some feel bitter."
She softened. "But they all adore you. Because of that, they had to accept him."
Lynette leaned back, letting the silence stretch between them as she processed everything. The carefully painted picture of Lynette marriage was not all that it seems.
"Do you…" She hesitated.
"Do you also suspect Arian had something to do with my disappearance?"
Abigail looked stunned. "What? No—never. He wouldn't. Even after your fights, he still treated you well. And I don't believe Mr. Csepel could ever do something like that. He loved you, Miss. He loved you so much that sometimes… it made me jealous."
She paused, her expression distant. "When you vanished, he was broken. Not himself at all."
Then something dawned on her. "Wait… you said also. Who else thinks Arian is responsible?"
Lynette glanced away, brushing the question off with a faint shake of her head. "I think… that's all I need for now."
Abigail studied her for a moment, lips parting as if she wanted to say more.
But instead of responding right away, Abigail simply nodded and glanced meaningfully at the bundle in Lynette's hand.
Then she cleared her throat—loudly and with a dramatic flair. "Young miss…"
Lynette turned to her, blinking for a moment before realizing. "Oh," she said, then handed the bundle over.
"Thank you so much, young miss!" Abigail gushed, hugging the cash to her chest as if it were a prized possession.
"You have such a kind heart. Truly, what have I done to deserve this? I must be blessed today!" She went as far as to sniff the money, eyes fluttering like someone overwhelmed by joy.
Then something seemed to spark in her memory.
She leaned in. "Young miss, there's an organization. Number one in information gathering. Very discreet. They have an 84% success rate," she said, her tone low and conspiratorial.
"They were the ones who helped me expose my ex-husband's infidelity."
Lynette's interest piqued. "You think they could help me find Arian's real family?"
Abigail gave a knowing smile. "Eighty-four percent success rate," she repeated.
"Then please, give me their number," Lynette said without hesitation.
Abigail suddenly cleared her throat again and began scratching her palm sheepishly. "Well… I'm not sure if I still have it. My phone is such a mess—"
Before she could finish, Lynette silently retrieved another bundle and dropped it into Abigail's lap.
Abigail's face lit up like she'd just won the lottery. "Oh, young miss… you are exceedingly generous today! But of course, I'm not surprised!"
She eagerly unlocked her phone, tapping rapidly as she scrolled. "Ah! I just remembered what I saved it under," she said, then tilted the screen to show Lynette the contact.
"There it is," Abigail said, handing her phone to Lynette.
Lynette took it without delay and quickly copied the number to her own phone. "Got it," she said, handing the phone back.
"You can also chat with them," Abigail added. "They respond fast."
"Alright. Thank you so much for the information," Lynette said, her voice sincere.
Abigail tilted her head and blinked innocently. "What information, young miss?"
Lynette gave her a look—Abigail knew exactly what she meant.
"I'll move back to the front seat now," Abigail said quickly. "Shall I call the driver?"
Lynette smiled faintly, understanding the message behind her words. "Yes, go ahead. Let's return to the residence. I've enjoyed the view enough."
Abigail exited the car, called over the driver, and then slipped back into her seat up front.
As the engine started, Lynette stared at her screen, then typed a short message to the number she had just saved:
"Hope this works."
She hit send, her heart quietly thudding with anticipation.