It might be strange for a boy to be named Abigail.
But back then, upon arriving at the orphanage, Abigail is nothing but a filthy, quiet kid. Aimlessly wandering around the orphanage until a nun take pities on him and decide to take him under her wing. He never spoke, never did things unless he was guided to. Eyes that didn't spark a hint of life in them, that always seems unfocused.
Children avoid him a lot, naturally. In this small village, people still believes in ghost and bad spirit.
The only time he ever reacted is when he heard the name Abigail.
No one knows why. Abigail probably wouldn't remember. But like a clockwork, he spring back to life when people called him Abigail.
“Abigail can you bring this for me?”
“Abigail let's play!”
“Abigail you count to ten, and we'll start hiding.”
Abigail. Abigail. Abigail.
Maybe there's something familiar in that name.
Maybe it's a memory Abigail refused to remember for whatever reason.
But he knows the name Abigail is important. To him, or to someone else.
So he respond, and he spoke, and he play, and he lived. He lived because someone he cares about could never does.