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

resolute stare tells me she’s dead serious. “Fine, but just a quick walk. I’m

a sigh, I scrape the food onto a plate and shove it into the microwave, resigning myself to eating

dinner in favor of appeasing my restless. companion.

the second it’s open wide enough, nearly yanking me off my feet. I stumble after her,

crisp evening air is a welcome relief after the

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Paranoia and

the apartment, and I find myself falling into an easy rhythm, my earlier unease fading into the background. Selene trots ahead, her nose twitching as she investigates every nook and cranny, but her path seems

we venture too far from home, but some inexplicable force holds

months.

we have at least a half hour of walking to get back home. I’m hungry and worn out

at her leash, but she ignores it. “Selene. Come on. Now!” I tug harder and try to start

direction.

barely catching myself before I fall. “You’ve gotta be

14:45.

38

Paranoia and Secrets

for these kinds of

gone potty once. Maybe she needs to walk

and into the 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 my pocket, gleaning a little sense of

casting an eerie glow over our path. Selene forges ahead, her movements purposeful,

Selene has always been a relatively well–behaved companion, her antics limited to the occasional bout of mischief

as the air

14:45 –

Paranola and

on an almost cloying quality. My pulse quickens,

as an unfamiliar heat blossoms deep in

abdomen.

happening

as she 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

clenching spasmodically around the leash as a wave of dizziness washes over me. The world tilts