Abigail slowly lifted her gaze toward Caleb Winthrop, her husband, who stood by the tall window overlooking the manicured gardens. He did not turn to face her, and instead stared outside as if the glass could separate him from responsibility.
“Leave her alone,” Evelyn said with a thin smile that carried no warmth. “She is probably calculating how much she is losing, although she came here with nothing and will leave the same way.”
The words hit harder than Abigail expected, yet she refused to let them see her break under their cruelty. She sat still, holding the pen, refusing to give them the satisfaction of watching her fall apart.
The family attorney leaned forward and pushed the papers slightly closer to her, speaking with rehearsed indifference. “The agreement is simple, you waive any claim to assets, support, or future compensation, and in return the family will not release certain evidence regarding your misconduct.”
Abigail’s eyes sharpened instantly as her heart pounded. “I never cheated,” she said firmly. “Not once.”