Tangled

22 Ava: Paranoia and Secrets (III)

22 Ava: Paranoia and Secrets (III)

I try to slip the crystal back into the drawer of my nightstand, but Selene darts forward, her body wriggling between me and the furniture like a furry battering ram. With a huff of frustration, I pull my hand back, the crystal still clutched in my fist.”

“Selene, down,” I scold, but she remains resolutely in my path, those pale blue eyes fixed on the object in my grasp.

Realizing this is a battle I won’t win, I shove the crystal into the pocket of my jeans, ignoring the uneasy weight that seems to settle in my gut at its presence. Selene’s tail wags, and she trots back toward the kitchen, pausing every few steps to glance over her shoulder, as if ensuring I follow.

The aroma of the sautéed vegetables greets me as I re–enter the kitchen, and my stomach rumbles in

anticipation. But as I move to finish plating the meal, Selene darts underfoot, nearly sending me sprawling. I sidestep her clumsily, shooting her a glare.

“What has gotten into you?” I mutter, stirring the

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22 Ava: Paranoia and Secrets (1)

contents of the pan with perhaps more force than

necessary.

Selene whines, her nose pointed toward the front. door, and understanding dawns.

“All right, all right.” I rush over to open the front door.

But Selene remains rooted to the spot, her gaze flickering between me and the door, an insistent whine escaping her. I frown as realization sets in–she wants

come with

tells me she’s dead serious. “Fine,

scrape the food onto a plate and shove it into the microwave, resigning myself

dinner in favor of appeasing my restless. companion.

her collar, and she darts out the door the second it’s open wide enough, nearly yanking me off my feet. I stumble after her, the

evening air is a welcome

2/6

Paranoia and Secrets (III)

easy rhythm, my earlier unease fading into the background. Selene trots ahead,

force holds my tongue. Instead, I let Selene lead, trusting in the bond we’ve forged

months.

hour later, I’m feeling extreme regret. We’ve made it to a nearby park, which is essentially a trail going through a small bit of city forest. My food is cold at home, and we have at least a

her leash, but she ignores it.

direction.

barely catching myself

14:45.

38

Paranoia and

of

potty once. Maybe she needs to walk longer.

shadowed treeline, the crunch of fallen leaves and twigs beneath my boots echoing in the stillness. A shiver skitters down my spine. I can’t help but touch the crystal in

through the canopy in dappled streaks, casting an eerie glow over our path. Selene forges ahead, her movements purposeful, almost urgent. I

been a relatively well–behaved companion, her antics limited to the occasional bout of mischief around the apartment. But this? This single–minded determination to lead me deeper into the shadows

trickles down the nape of my neck as the

14:45 –

Paranola

cloying quality. My

an unfamiliar heat blossoms

abdomen.

happening to

scents the air, and I take the opportunity to glance around, trying to get my bearings. But the trees seem to blur together, an endless maze of bark and branches that offers no

my frame, my fingers clenching spasmodically around the leash as a wave of dizziness washes over me. The world tilts precariously, the shadows lengthening and distorting until they seem to reach out with