#mydcsign

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Abigail looked up from her coffee, blinking at Jack Crawford before nodding slowly. In truth, she was surprised he cared about her well-being at all, what with their rocky history. But she supposed that when it came to Hannibal Lecter, he was content to keep his enemies close, if only for the sake of “the good doctor’s” arrest.

“Call him,” she agreed. “Will’s testimony is just as important as mine, if not more important, so convince him of that. Just...don’t tell him I’m here.”

Jack frowned. “If I tell him the truth, Dr. Lecter won’t find out you’re alive.”

“Please...just don’t. Not yet.” Abigail didn’t trust that to be true. As often as she’d been sold down the river, it was difficult for her to trust anyone at all.

Expression grave, Jack nodded before lifting the phone to his ear. When he heard the telltale click of the line being answered, he said, “Will -- it’s me, Jack. I trust you’ve gotten the Bureau letter requesting your attendance in court? I’d rather not subpoena you, but if I have to, I will. We’re counting on you to win this.”

The news was unsurprising. Seeing Hannibal Lecter’s face splashed all over the media, indicating his pending trial of the century, was both a terror and a relief. Abigail was not encouraged to watch the news by her new “family,” but she did as she pleased. Even Hannibal, a practiced manipulator, had never been able to fully control her. And in spite of the old farm couple’s cajoling, she’d sent word to Dr. Bloom that she wanted to testify.

It’s unwise, Alana had written back, but I’ll see what I can do.

Now all Abigail needed to do was wait.

--

“It’s beautiful,” Abigail said, her voice soft and wispy like in a dream. “It’s odd thinking how so many Sicilian rulers walked through these very halls.” She and Will currently stood in the Palazzo dei Normanni, the renowned oldest royal residence in Europe.