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.

picking up a few things for you,” Ivy says, holding out

on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of

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Dinner With

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

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

something. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but it makes me uneasy.

say, meaning it despite my reservations. “That’s really

too much into things. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. The Moon Goddess knows

understandable, Selene says, yawning from her spot on the couch. She’s still binge–watching her mind–numbing

and wine on the counter. “Why don’t you make yourself

and cinka aronofully onto the

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sniffs her in greeting, and Ivy reaches out to pat her head in a ginger sort of way, almost like she’s worried

image makes me snort. Inside my head, of course. I wouldn’t do that where she can hear me.

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

We eat in silence for a few

breaks the quiet. “So, Ava,” she begins, her tone light and conversational. “Tell me

tightening on my fork. “There’s not much to tell,” I deflect,

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Dinner With Ivy

not really around anymore.”

sympathy. “I’m sorry,”

head, offering her a reassuring

heard from her before. “Clayton and I lost our parents when we were young, too,” she confides, her gaze dropping to the table. “It’s not an easy thing to

mine in a gentle squeeze.

meeting her, I feel like I’m seeing

offers me a small, grateful smile, giving my hand one last squeeze/before

alpha because he