Chapter 9: Mr. Sawyer, What Are You Doing Here?
After pouring all her sadness into her mother's grave, Abigail feels her heart is no longer as devastated as before. She feels her heavy heart much lighter, and her tears have also dried.
She hopes she will no longer cry over the two men she hated the most: Adam Snow and Ryland Wood. Her story with them now feels like a finished book in her heart.
"HAAH!!"
Abigail sighed deeply, smiled at her mother's grave, and stood from the ground.
When Abigail realized it was almost nine, she immediately bowed to her mother one last time, said goodbye, and left.
Abigail couldn't stay any longer; she had to catch the train back to the capital and return to the Crimson Leaf Café. She had a lot to do today; She needed to talk with Lana about the job and find a new place to stay for the night so she could clean herself and rest.
She hurried down the stairs, needing to catch a taxi to the train station.
However, she realized this place was remote, and getting a taxi around here might pose a challenge. She waited at the bus stop for a while, but only a few cars passed, and there was no sign of a bus or taxi.
'Why does my luck always run out when I need it the most?'
After a few more minutes of waiting, she decided to walk toward the hospital, where there would be more traffic.
However,
As she was about to start walking, a black SUV suddenly pulled up in front of the bus stop, startling her.
The dark window tint made it impossible to see inside the car. She ignored the car and began to walk away from the bus stop, but only a few steps later, a familiar voice called her name.
"Hello, Miss Abigail Snow—"
Abigail stopped in her tracks, surprised. 'Oh God, am I hearing things? Why do I hear that man on the rooftop voice?'
Turning back to look at the bus stop, she saw the car move slightly, and her heart skipped a beat when she noticed him sitting behind the wheel, looking handsome and gazing back at her.
"Are you going somewhere, Miss. Abigail?" he asked casually, almost as if they were old friends, which puzzled her.
"Mr. Sawyer," Abigail awkwardly addressed him. "What are you doing here?" She was surprised that this man remembered her name. And how could he appear in this secluded place?
'What is this guy doing here? Did he follow me? Stalk me?' Abigail wondered but quickly dismissed the idea. It seemed impossible for this man to follow her here, right!?
Sawyer slightly raises his eyebrow at her suspicious question. He sighed deeply and turned his gaze away from her, feeling confused.
Why did he stop? He was supposed to ignore her, but his instincts betrayed him, and he hit the brake without his knowing.
Turning to look at her again, he calmly said, "Well, young lady, honestly, that's my question. Why are you here?"
Abigail could see his annoyance through his gaze. When she realized how rude her question was, she immediately felt terrible.
Not wanting to create a misunderstanding with her savior, she hurriedly clarified.
"I'm sorry, sir. I didn't intend to be paranoid or suspicious of you."
"It's fine. I don't mind if you're suspicious of me. We only met once, and now we meet again in this situation..." Sawyer's voice sounded gentle, and his gaze no longer seemed annoyed.
"Thanks for understanding, sir." Abigail felt relieved.
"Where are you going?" Sawyer casually asked, but afterward, he scolded himself for asking such a question. He didn't know why, but he always felt foolish whenever he saw her—his mind never cooperated.
"It's fine if you don't want to tell me—" Sawyer felt awkward, noticing her hesitation. He continued, "Alright, I won't bother you anymore. Have a good day, Miss Abigail."
Sawyer was about to hit the gas pedal, but Abigail stopped him.
"Wait, Mr. Sawyer..." Abigail approached his car, closing the distance between them.
He frowned, "Yes?"
"I'm going to the train station to return to the capital. But no cabs are passing through this area. Mr. Sawyer, if you don't mind, could you give me a lift? I need to get to the capital soon." Abigail asked.
Abigail felt her face heat up, but she couldn't back out now. She could only clench her hand tightly, waiting for his response.
"Sure, get in!" Sawyer said, leaning over to open the passenger door for her.
She was stunned by how fast he answered. Not wanting him to change his mind, she hurriedly hopped into the car.
"Thank you, sir—"
"Put on your seatbelt, please."
After Abigail put on her seatbelt, the car slowly started moving. For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. Sawyer focused on the road while Abigail was too nervous to start a conversation.
She kept her eyes on the street ahead, ensuring Sawyer took the correct route to the train station.
"You said you're catching a train to the capital?" Finally, Sawyer broke the silence.
Abigail turned to him, "Yes..."
He could feel her gaze on him, but when he looked at her, she swiftly turned her eyes back to the street. A small smile slowly crept onto his lips.
"Looks like you don't know the train schedule, Miss Abigail," Sawyer remarked.
Abigail was stunned. Every time she visited this place, she took the morning train and returned to the capital with the night train.
"Oh, my goodness... so they don't have a schedule after nine?"
He answered without looking at her, "I'm not entirely sure, but I heard they only operate four or five times a day. You might want to check the schedule online."
"Ah, you're right," Abigail said, pulling out her cell phone.
However, when she saw her phone, she was utterly shocked. The battery was running out, and she didn't have her charger; it was in her suitcase.
"What happened? Can't find the schedule?"
"No. My phone's battery is dead," Abigail shrugs. She wants to borrow his phone but hesitates, worried he might refuse or think she is strange.
"It's fine, sir. You can drop me at the station. I hope my luck isn't gone today. At least not entirely gone," Abigail said helplessly, looking out the window, hoping for some luck.
In this situation, if she was lucky, a train would still be coming, and it was an immediate train that would take her to the city, or Sister Lana might throw away her suitcase.
"You know what, you can use my phone—"