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

me she’s dead serious. “Fine, but just

and shove it into the microwave, resigning myself to eating

of

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

crisp evening air is a welcome

2/6

and Secrets

earlier unease fading into the background. Selene trots ahead, her nose twitching as she investigates every nook

from home, but some inexplicable force holds my tongue. Instead, I let Selene lead, trusting in the bond we’ve forged over these

months.

forest. My food is cold at home, and we have at least a half hour of walking to get back home. I’m hungry and worn out from

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

direction.

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

14:45.

38

and Secrets (III)

usually one for these kinds of shenanigans. “Okay. Okay! I get it, you aren’t done.”

Maybe she needs to walk

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. I can’t help but touch the crystal in my

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

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

my neck as

14:45 –

Paranola and

taking on an almost cloying

unfamiliar heat blossoms deep in

abdomen.

is happening

bearings. But the trees seem to blur together, an endless maze of bark and branches that

clenching spasmodically around the leash as a wave of dizziness washes over me. The world tilts precariously, the shadows lengthening and distorting until