Tangled in Moonlight: Unshifted (Ava and Lucas)

Chapter 54 Ava: Dinner With Ivy

Music drifts through the kitchen, courtesy of my phone, as I chop garlic, enjoying the sharp aroma. Cooking has always been a comfort to me, a way to lose myself in the simple tasks and let my mind wander. As I toss minced garlic into the pan heating over the stove, I can't help but feel a sense of peace settle over me, if only momentarily.

I've set up the phone Clayton gave me, and texted him and Ivy to let them know it was working. Neither responded, which is fine by me. I set up the burner phone, too, and texted Lisa with updates. She did respond, and her spam of emojis have lightened the load on my heart. I texted Mrs. Elkins, letting her know I'm safe and begging her not to talk to anyone about me.

Mrs. Elkins assured me my job is safe whenever I can come home, which is even more of a relief.

My little paradise is waiting for me, which makes it so much easier to be stuck here right now.

A knock at the door startles me from my reverie. I glance at the clock, wondering who could be here at this hour. Wiping my hands on a towel, I make my way to the door, peering through the peephole.

It's Ivy.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever interaction awaits me. There's something about Ivy that always puts me on edge, a subtle undercurrent of something that I can't quite place. Still, I paste on a polite smile and open the door.

"Ivy, hi," I greet her, trying to keep my tone casual.

"Ava," she says, her smile bright but somehow not quite reaching her eyes. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Not at all," I assure her, stepping aside to let her in. "I was just making dinner."

of wine in her hand and the shopping bag slung over her arm.

a few things for you," Ivy says, holding out the

feeling a bit awkward. "You didn't have to do that," I murmur, even

a dismissive hand. "It's the least I could do. You're practically

undercurrent of something. I can't quite put my finger on

you, Ivy," I say, meaning it despite my

beams at me, and for a moment, I wonder if I'm reading too much into things. Maybe I'm just being paranoid.

spot on the couch. She's still binge-watching

that I'm in the middle of cooking, I set the bag and wine on the counter.

her legs and leaning back. Selene sniffs her in greeting, and Ivy reaches out to pat her head in a ginger sort

head, of course. I wouldn't do that where she can

the kitchen, trying to ignore the way her gaze seems to follow me as

the food is plated, and I carry our dishes to the table. "Here we are," I say, setting a plate in front of Ivy

me, already reaching for her fork. We eat in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds the soft clink of

she begins, her tone light and conversational. "Tell me a little about yourself. Your family, where you're from—all the

mention of family, my grip tightening on my fork. "There's not much to tell," I deflect, keeping my tone carefully neutral. "My family... they're not really

expression softens, her eyes warm with what seems like genuine sympathy. "I'm sorry,"

my head, offering her a reassuring smile.

I haven't heard from her before. "Clayton and I lost our parents when we were young, too," she confides, her gaze dropping to the table. "It's not an