Chapter 72

Abigail tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Since it's your graduation day, we should celebrate!"

Evelyn stretched lazily. "No need. It's just another day."

Undeterred, Abigail linked arms with her enthusiastically. "Four years of university is an achievement! There's this new boutique at Eastbridge Mall with exclusive designer pieces. Let's check it out?"

Evelyn glanced at their entwined arms with raised eyebrows. "Shopping? Now?"

Abigail nodded vigorously. "Why not? It's better than going home bored. Come on!"

Though surprised by Abigail's sudden friendliness, Evelyn considered the benefits of keeping peace in the Grayson household.

"Fine," she conceded after a pause. "Let's go."

Abigail's face lit up instantly. She turned to Nathaniel. "You're coming with us, right?"

Nathaniel barely looked up from his documents. "I'm busy."

Exactly the response Abigail wanted. "Then have the driver drop us at Eastbridge Mall," she said sweetly.

As they exited the car, Nathaniel rolled down his window. "Don't stay out too late," he told Evelyn.

"Got it," Evelyn replied, amused by his parental tone. She assumed he was worried about his precious sister's influence.

Inside the mall, Abigail suddenly clutched her stomach. "Oh no! I need the restroom!" she gasped.

Evelyn spotted an "Under Maintenance" sign on the nearest restroom. "This one's closed. Let's find another floor."

"I can't wait!" Abigail insisted, already rushing toward the restricted area. "I'll use whatever stall works. Wait here!"

Before Evelyn could stop her, Abigail disappeared inside.

Minutes passed with no sign of Abigail. Growing concerned, Evelyn entered the dimly lit restroom.

Darkness engulfed her as a sack was pulled over her head. A sharp blow to her skull sent her collapsing unconscious.

The bathroom door creaked open. Abigail stepped out, smirking triumphantly. "Fell right into my trap, didn't you, Evelyn?"

At Suite 3201 of Grayson International Hotel, Evelyn lay motionless on the bed.

Abigail stood over her, arms crossed in satisfaction. The helpless woman resembled a fish on a cutting board.

"Make sure nothing traces back to me," Abigail instructed sharply.

Edward Whitmore gave a confident grin. "Everything's arranged perfectly, Miss Grayson. Nothing will go wrong."

Abigail eyed him critically. "It better not."

"You'll be completely satisfied, I guarantee."

Edward turned to the blond man waiting nearby. "You heard Miss Grayson. Take good care of our guest here. And remember what to say when the police come knocking?"