Chapter 17 Ava: Settling In

Chapters 11-17 have been rewritten to improve story flow and pacing. [June 27, 2024]

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The men at the door look related. So related that I'd bet they're twins.

"Hi," the one on the left says, with a charming smile. They have close-cropped brown hair and twinkling brown eyes, with popular kid in high school written all over them. They have to be in their mid-twenties now, though.

"Hi," I respond, with some suspicion. Is this that legendary thing called solicitation? Are they here to sell me something?

If so, they're screwed. Selene got to my wallet first.

"Mrs. Elkins sent us," the guy on the right says, and I turn my gaze to him, relaxing a little.

"Oh?" Mrs. Elkins wouldn't just send someone without warning me.

Checking my phone, I see a missed text.

[MRS. ELKINS: Don't forget that Ben and Franklin are coming to help put up some shelves in the living room. You can send them away if you're not up to it.]

Oh, right. I vaguely recall some conversation like that last week. Probably something I should have added to my phone so I wouldn't be surprised at a time like this.

say,

one's a little more burly and the other wears glasses. "I'm Ben," the one with glasses offers, turning up the

out to shake my hand. He has a wedding ring. The other

Ah, they're family.

at ease now, I step back to invite them in. Selene gives them both a quick once-over,

of a couch potato," Ben says with

on the remote. I can see how that's amusing; the idea of a

me reacts to that lightly flirtatious laugh or the interested glances he sends my

Westwood has ruined

few of the boxes to figure out how

of books, and—as it turns out—I don't feel like

gets rid of

of them are old and well-worn. Others are

we put the tall

for me. I'm not picky, as

they're anchored well. Wouldn't want any accidents." He flashes me a friendly smile, but it

work, I sort through the boxes, organizing the books by genre. It's a daunting task, but there's something

in a blur of measuring, drilling, and sorting. Selene dozes on the couch, unbothered

the fever still simmers under my skin. But there's a buzzing in my veins, a sense of purpose that keeps me

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