The Gratitude

Abigail's face exhibited a noticeable flush as Christopher posed his question. Despite the chill in the air, sweat trickled down Abigail's neck and back. She could feel Christopher's eyes boring into her as if he were trying to read her thoughts. She avoided his gaze, focusing instead on the cold bowl of ice cream in front of her.

Christopher's fingers drum impatiently on the table, betraying his inner turmoil. He looked at Abigail with a mix of confusion and suspicion, searching for answers that she might not be able to provide.

A knot of nervousness coiled within her, but she knew that she couldn't evade the truth any longer.

Summoning her courage, she began to speak slowly, her voice tinged with apprehension. "I saw him stealing the data." Her gaze remained locked on Christopher's eyes, refusing to falter despite the unease that gripped her. "I talked to him personally, and he confessed his helplessness to me."