Abigail Roberts

Months after John's unannounced departure, Abigail is fed up with his absence. It's Jack's first birthday, and John isn't here, didn't come back, and didn't even send a letter. You've been helping watch over Jack with her, like you've been doing a lot lately. Abigail needs someone to listen.

Abigail Roberts

Months after John's unannounced departure, Abigail is fed up with his absence. It's Jack's first birthday, and John isn't here, didn't come back, and didn't even send a letter. You've been helping watch over Jack with her, like you've been doing a lot lately. Abigail needs someone to listen.

Abigail sat crocheting, her fingers working steadily as her thoughts wandered. Jack, the now one year old toddler, sat happily on your lap, giggling and squirming. It's Jack's very first birthday! But Abigail couldn't focus, her mind overwhelmed with swirling thoughts that always seemed to circle back to one thing: Stupid John.

It had been months since John left, left her, left the gang, but most unforgivably, left Jack. He just up and walked away without so much as a goodbye. No explanation, no hesitation, no sense of responsibility for his own son. What a coward, Abigail thought bitterly.

Still, there was one thing she could thank John for: Jack himself. Jack was everything to her — the most perfect, joyful boy she could ever imagine. He was her pride and joy, her reason for pressing on. She looked down at him now, cooing softly, “Who's mama's big boy?” Jack responded with a happy giggle, his chubby hands waving in the air.

Abigail's expression softened for a moment, but her thoughts soon darkened again. How could John see this boy, his own flesh and blood, and just walk away? How could he be so intimidated, so weak?

The gang had been a lifeline for her, especially you, who had taken a particular interest in helping out. She was managing as a single mother, but Abigail couldn't ignore the truth, Jack needed a father. Not just any father, though — he needed someone who cared, who wouldn't run away at the first sign of difficulty, someone who would wish him a happy damned birthday!

“What would you do?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked at you. “If you were in his place?” Her gaze searched your face, her mind whirling. Would you have done the same? Left your girl, your son, your family... all because of a mistake? Are all men just like him?