Having succeeded, Abigail bid farewell to the man and gathered her belongings to leave. In front of the bar's window, she crossed paths with Carmen, who gave her an inquisitive expression. Through a series of facial expressions and gestures, Abigail signaled that the discussion had gone well, and she was heading home. Carmen congratulated her with a thumbs-up and a deeply happy smile before taking the order of a lively table.
The weekend, although already underway, passed by without Abigail realizing it. She found herself on Monday morning, sitting on the edge of her bed, unsure of what to do. Having woken up too early and ready too soon, she waited patiently. Her deep sleep had completely refreshed her, but as soon as she left the sheets, a ball of stress formed in her stomach and grew with each passing minute. An hour before her appointment, she had enough and left; better to be early than late, especially on a day like this.
As she stepped out of her building, the young woman felt a thin layer of snow crunching beneath her feet. The streets were covered in a fine white veil, matching the color of the sky, foretelling the upcoming snowflakes. It had been years since France had experienced such a frigid winter. A gust of wind made her shiver and motivated her to move quickly to dispel the cold that was already creeping into her legs. As expected, the snow started falling timidly again as Abigail crossed the deserted avenues of the city, where streetlights emitted a faint halo of light, strange orbs floating in the air. Silhouettes in the mist, the Christmas decorations had not yet been taken down, although the new year had already begun. Abigail had celebrated it alone, once again: her mother no longer left the convent she had occupied since her daughter's death; her father was on the other side of the planet, celebrating with his new family. Carmen had briefly passed by for them to exchange gifts but quickly went back to work. She sighed, thinking that after five years of spending the holidays like this, she should have gotten used to it, but it still caused a pang in her heart to open the package sent by her father, alone in her living room.
Lost in her memories, her steps had instinctively led her to the police station and its austere architecture. Although she had been working there for a long time and knew every corridor and exit by heart, for the first time, she felt uneasy in front of it. As if she were just another criminal. She climbed the stairs, resigning herself to the fact that she would be treated as such, despite her years of service without a single deviation. A brief comfort, the warmth of the hall warmed her nose reddened by the cold, but as she greeted her colleagues at the front desk, she felt a discomfort behind their words. She had to insist for them to finally reveal what was wrong: the rumor of her incident had spread. Everyone had their say, some exonerating her, others condemning her. She was not reassured when she arrived, but the little hope she had left began to crumble.
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Although her action was reprehensible, and she already regretted it deeply, simply opening her file would lead to her downfall. She had refrained from advancing all this time to gain the trust of her superiors, a trust sufficient for them to promote her without bothering to consult her.
She had to wait for another torturous half-hour before the first of her judges arrived. Commissioner Chaunet crossed the room without giving her a glance, muttering into her scarf, a dark expression on her face. Shortly after, it was Commander Fabre's turn to enter, who searched for her with his eyes before coming to greet her and ordering her to follow him. Abigail felt her stomach knotting more than it already was.
What seemed like an instant later, she found herself in front of her superiors, in a deathly silence, the target of all eyes. Then, with measured slowness, the one directly facing her leaned in and pulled out a file from a drawer. Its mere presence revealed to Abigail the judgment that awaited her. Nevertheless, she listened as her judges explained that her blunder had allowed them to realize serious irregularities in her file, such as the total absence of mention of her relationship with the police prefect or her stay in a psychiatric hospital after the beating of a man that led to his death. The psychological fitness certificate was missing, the file was sealed... A case like this could not be kept silent, especially since the prefect was involved. He would likely be removed from his position or charged with forgery and abusive hiring. Although it went without saying, the commissioner specified that she was dismissed with immediate effect and should consider herself lucky that her years of impeccable service and the absence of a complaint from her victim were in her favor, or she could have risked a trial from which she would not have emerged victorious.
Surprisingly, and despite the gravity of the situation, the pressure Abigail felt evaporated the moment her superior announced the verdict. As if absent, she thanked them for their leniency and left the office without adding anything. As the door closed slowly behind her, snippets of conversations reached her ears; her former superiors were concerned about not having yet found the last victim of their case. One of them even asked if it were possible that the killer had stopped his activity, but Abigail didn't hear the answer given, nor did she feel concerned. After all, she was no longer part of the police force.
Descending to the front desk to bid farewell to her now former colleagues and retrieve her meager belongings, she soon crossed the threshold of the building, her box in hand. Despite the cold and the snow, she stayed for a few moments on the stone staircase, taking deep breaths. Deep inside, a strange feeling of freedom allowed her to appreciate the icy air in her lungs. The sword of Damocles that had been hanging over her head had finally fallen, freeing her from this constant worry. She had never wondered what she would do if she left the police force, but at this moment, Abigail didn't care at all and left with a half-smile lighting up her face.