Abigail’s Second Life (Abigail Quinn)

Chapter 112

Chapter 112 She’s Alana

When Sean received the files from Cameron at six in the morning, he wasted no time over the past two

days gathering all the information he could. He opened the picture he had taken of Abigail’s notebook

and meticulously laid out all the drafts Cameron had collected. She had sketched a multitude of pattern

s. Sean meticulously compared them to the patterns in Alana’s designs.

When he came across the same stork design, Sean placed his phone on the draft and examined it clos

ely. The shading used by Abigail on the stork was strikingly similar to Alana’s style. He knew

that shading was a critical aspect of an artist’s talent, and no matter how gifted Abigail was, she couldn’

t replicate the essence of Alana’s art in such a short time.

He concentrated tirelessly, searching for similarities between Alana’s and Abigail’s designs. As time

ticked by, he held up the final design. He scrutinized it to compare it to the ones in Abigail’s

notebook.

The design had an unmistakable smudge and was adorned with intricate rose designs. He recalled

taking a picture of a rose drawing in Abigail’s notebook the previous night, and it bore the same

shading technique as the final draft. Even though the final design had transformed the roses into a

3D representation, the core design remained unchanged.

Sean couldn’t tear his eyes away from the draft. He overlapped them all, and then, clutching his phone

tightly, he got up.

Cameron quickly followed Sean, expecting him to seek out Abigail. However, Sean headed for the

elevator instead. Just as they reached the elevator, they ran into Joan, who came out from the other

elevator.

Joan hurried over to Sean, but she hesitated momentarily when she noticed the stack of drafts he

held. “Where are you going, Sean? The show starts today, and I’m feeling nervous. Can we chat for a

bit?” She glanced at the drafts in his hand, and when she realized they were Alana’s work, her eyes

darkened.

Sean pressed a button on the elevator panel. “I’m short on time, Joan. You have a busy schedule, too.

Head to the dressing room.” The elevator doors slid open, and Sean stepped inside before she

could

say anything.

Cameron noticed the look in Sean’s eyes and knew he had a role to play. So, he prevented her from en

tering the elevator with Sean. “Miss Palmer, allow me to escort you to the dressing room. We

can’t be late for the show.”

Joan wanted to convey her concerns about the impending failure of the show, but their planned. drama

with Nina had not yet begun, so she forced a smile. “Of course. Sorry for troubling you. I’m

nervous.”

Cameron said, “It’s alright.”

It was nearly eight, and

the backstage area was bustling with activity. The crew members were inspecting the runway, others w

ere fine–tuning the live–stream setup, and the remainder were busy dressing the models.

Kevin entered the scene, looking

suave. However, the moment he stepped out, Scan, who had been waiting patiently, grabbed his collar

and pushed him back into the room.

Kevin grumbled, “I just ironed my suit, Sean. Let me go!”

Sean glared at him coldly and then got straight to the point. “You’ve hidden the secret well, Kevin. The

secret is that Abigail is Alana.”

Kevin was taken aback, then quickly blinked in surprise. He asked with curiosity, “How did you figure it

out?”

Sean had been attempting a bluff, not expecting Kevin to actually know. He sneered in response.

Kevin felt a chill run down his spine, but he forced a smile. “You know I have a thing for beautiful

handwriting, so I often check everyone’s signature when I get the chance.”

Sean was aware of that quirk of Kevin’s.

Kevin straightened his collar out. “Alana’s draft bears her signature. I think her handwriting is nice,

and I like it. When Luna was signing the contract, I checked her signature, but it was different from

the one on Alana’s draft.” This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - ©.

Sean stated icily, “So, you’ve known for a while.”

Kevin pulled a long face. “Abigail wanted to hide it. I couldn’t break it to you. If I did anything to upset h

er, you’d have difficulty cheering her up. Besides, she told me Alana’s husband just died, and she was i

n a bad mood,” he explained, trying to appear innocent.

Sean was speechless. He pitied Alana when her assistant told him that she was a widow. He muttered,

All this time, that dead husband is me? Sean’s temples throbbed, and he massaged his forehead. “Why

’d she say I was dead?”