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

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

plate and shove it into the

dinner in favor of appeasing my restless. companion.

tail wags furiously as I clip the leash onto 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 crystal in my pocket seeming to grow heavier with

is a welcome

2/6

Paranoia and

of the apartment, and I find myself falling into an easy rhythm, my earlier unease fading into the background. Selene trots

should protest, should insist we turn back before we venture too far from home, but some inexplicable force holds my tongue. Instead, I let Selene lead,

months.

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 half hour of walking to get

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

direction.

off my feet, and I stumble, barely catching myself before I fall. “You’ve gotta be

14:45.

38

and

kinds of shenanigans. “Okay. Okay! I get it, you aren’t

potty once. Maybe she needs

follow Selene’s lead as she veers off the trail 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.

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

bout of mischief around the apartment. But this? This single–minded determination to lead me deeper

the nape of my neck as

14:45 –

22 Ava: Paranola and

foliage taking on an almost cloying quality. My pulse quickens, each

unfamiliar heat blossoms deep in my

abdomen.

happening to

glance around, trying to get my bearings. But the trees seem to blur together, an endless maze of bark and branches

frame, my fingers clenching spasmodically around the leash as a wave of dizziness washes over me. The world