Tangled

20 Ava: Paranoia and Secrets (I)

The bell above the door jingles, signaling another customer’s arrival at The Novel Grind. I glance up from where I’m restocking the pastry case and feel a smile tugging at my lips. It’s become such a familiar routine these past four months–the steady flow of customers, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the scent of old books, the comfortable chatter filling the cozy space.

I nod in acknowledgment, my hands continuing their task of arranging the muffins and scones just so. This place has become more than just a job to me; it’s a sanctuary, a haven where I can breathe easy and simply exist without the weight of expectations bearing down on me.

As I work, my mind wanders to the evening ahead. It’s been two weeks since Franklin and his wife, Emily, last had me over for dinner. I’m looking forward to the home–cooked meal and easy conversation, a stark contrast to the strained silences and disapproving glances that used to fill my family dinners back home.

A pang of guilt tugs at my heart, but I quickly push it

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away. This is my life now, the life I’ve chosen, and I won’t let the ghosts of the past haunt me anymore.

“Here you go, dear,” Mrs. Elkins says, placing a steaming cup of coffee on the counter in front of me. “Don’t forget, you’ve got that class this afternoon.”

I nod, gratefully accepting the mug and taking a sip of the rich, robust brew. The summer course I’ve signed up for–Introduction to Literature–is a small step, but it’s a step in the right direction. With my limited savings, I can only afford one class this summer semester, but I’m determined to make the most of it.

As the morning rush begins to taper off, I take a moment to simply breathe and appreciate the quiet moments in between. This is my life now, a life of my own making, and for the first time in as long as I can remember, I feel a sense of peace settling over me.

I glance up from shelving a stack of paperbacks, my gaze instinctively drawn to the two men seated at one of the corner tables. Their murmured conversation drifts through the quiet hum of the café, and a chill races down my spine as I catch the unmistakable scent of shifters.

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20 Ava: Paranoia and Secrets (1)

how I didn’t

buckle, but I force myself to maintain an air of nonchalance, casually sliding books

what Blackwood is,” one of them grumbles into his coffee

with that hothead Westwood.”

grasp. Westwood… that’s Lucas. The name ignites a flicker of memory, one I swiftly smother before it can fully take shape. That part of my life

fathom why our alpha is so hellbent on finding that Blackwood girl,” the other man scoffs. “She’s more

she’s

my heart thundering in my ears as I hastily gather the scattered pages. That Blackwood girl–they can’t be talking about me, can they? But a sickening

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throat, but I force it down, reminding myself to breathe. No one knows where I am, not really. I’m safe here, anonymous and unassuming, just another face in the crowd. Straightening, I flash a tight smile at the oblivious

***

dull murmur as my mind drifts. I can’t seem to shake the nagging sense of unease that’s been clinging to me ever since overhearing those shifters at the cafe. Their words echo in my head, an endless loop of doubt and fear that threatens to unravel the fragile peace I’ve managed

a sea of bodies, students rushing to their next

shoulder

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WIT

Ava. Paranoia and

it hits the ground.

the haze of panic clouding my mind. “I didn’t

gaze focuses on the figure before me, and I feel the tension bleed from

disarming smile, and eyes

He’s human.

letting my fears get the better of me. Exhaling a shaky breath, I force a self–deprecating chuckle,

slow.

sorry,” I manage, bending to retrieve my fallen books. “You just startled me, that’s all.”

pages with an easy, unhurried grace. “Well, I definitely didn’t mean to do

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