I lock my phone and sigh, trying not to feel guilty that I’m not there, even if this game isn’t a big deal for Fitz personally. That team? They were part of our wedding.

The doorbell rings and I jump, hurrying over to open it. I told Agent Samuels that Abby was coming and Cam would follow later.

“Come in.” I hold open the door. “Thanks for coming here to do this. I didn’t want to risk meeting somewhere public.”

Abby’s eyes grow wide as she takes in the space.

“Are you okay?”

Abby sighs. “It’s just a lot.”

Taking her hand, I give it a squeeze. “I know. But I want you to see something.”

I bring her to the dining table that we only use to store our completed puzzles, which Fitz, thankfully, was alright putting away in their respective boxes.

“I wrote a lot. When I was at Horizons.” I straighten one paper, a copy of Day 91, which I had originally written out but Fitz suggested I type instead. “I sent all this to your lawyer. These in the bags are the original copies. You’re welcome to read all of them. But based on what I wrote, I know when she got sick. And I know how many times the infirmary told her to,” I pause. “To tough it out.”

Abby’s face breaks. “I’m sorry. I…”

I pull out a chair for her to sit.

“I’m amazed you were able to do that,” she says quietly. “And I hate that. This just all feels so personal for you, Parker. These were written to your husband when you guys were kids?”

I slide into a chair beside her. “I never sent them. And I only told him recently. If I had known about Sarah, I…”

Abby shakes her head. “No. None of this is your fault. I had a bad feeling about that place when my parents sent her. And after? I tried. I tried to find others until it became too frustrating. But you found me. It’s never too late.”

After a pot of tea and reviewing what I organized, I talk to Abby about Cam, explaining how he had mentioned he would be interested in moving the bill forward. But to do that, we needed to make it a story. It needed national attention to get priority for consideration sooner rather than later. This is where Abby is wrong. Sooner rather than later matters. Because the longer we sit, the longer this abuse continues without reprimand.

“How do we do that?” Abby asks.

The convention is still an option, but my gut tells me it’s the wrong one. “We’ll talk with Cam today and see what he thinks. He should be here in a half hour.”

Abby nods. “Can I just use your restroom?”