Tangled

54 Ava: Dinner With Ivy

Music drifts through the kitchen, courtesy of my phone, as I chop garlic, enjoying the sharp aroma. Cooking has always been a comfort to me, a way to lose myself in the simple tasks and let my mind wander. As I toss minced garlic into the pan heating over the stove, I can’t help but feel a sense of peace settle over me, if only momentarily.”

I’ve set up the phone Clayton gave me, and texted him and Ivy to let them know it was working. Neither responded, which is fine by me. I set up the burner phone, too, and texted Lisa with updates. She did respond, and her spam of emojis have lightened the load on my heart. I texted Mrs. Elkins, letting her know I’m safe and begging her not to talk to anyone about me. Mrs. Elkins assured me my job is safe whenever I

can come home, which is even more of a relief.

My little paradise is waiting for me, which makes it so much easier to be stuck here right now.

A knock at the door startles me from my reverie. I glance at the clock, wondering who could be here at

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54 Ava: Dinner With Ivy

this hour. Wiping my hands on a towel, I make my way to the door, peering through the peephole.

It’s Ivy.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever interaction awaits me. There’s something about Ivy that always puts me on edge, a subtle undercurrent of something that I can’t quite place. Still, I paste on a polite smile and open the door..

“Ivy, hi,” I greet her, trying to keep my tone casual.

“Ava,” she says, her smile bright but somehow not quite reaching her eyes. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Not at all,” I assure her, stepping aside to let her in. “I was just making dinner.”

As she enters, I notice the bottle of wine in her hand and the shopping bag slung over her arm. My brow furrows slightly, but I say nothing, waiting for her to explain.

of picking up a few things for you,” Ivy says, holding out the wine and the bag. “A little something to help you settle

sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the

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Ava: Dinner

bit awkward. “You didn’t have to do that,” I murmur, even as I eye

a dismissive hand. “It’s the least I could do. You’re practically family

it is again, that undercurrent of something. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it makes me uneasy. Still, I force a smile and

you, Ivy,” I say, meaning it despite my reservations. “That’s really kind of you.”

I’m reading too much into things. Maybe I’m just

on

wine on the counter. “Why don’t you make yourself comfortable?” I

mu amila and cinka aronofully onto the

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Ava: Dinner

and Ivy reaches out to pat her head in a ginger sort of way, almost like she’s worried about being tainted by a

Inside my head, of course. I wouldn’t do that

ignore the way her gaze seems to follow me as I move about.

dishes. to the table. “Here we are,” I say, setting a plate in front of Ivy before taking my own seat. “I hope you

We eat in silence

Ava,” she begins, her tone light and conversational. “Tell me a

slightly at the mention of family, my grip tightening on my fork. “There’s not much to tell,” I deflect, keeping

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Dinner With Ivy

not really around

like genuine sympathy. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I didn’t

shake my head, offering her a reassuring smile. “It’s alright, you

from her before. “Clayton and I lost our parents when

can respond, she reaches across the table, her hand covering mine in a gentle squeeze. I blink, surprised by

gaze. For the first time since meeting her, I feel like I’m seeing the real Ivy–not the polished one that seems to be weighing my every

grateful smile, giving my

because he was forced