Tangled

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158 Ava: From the Past

"Ava, is that you?"

The familiar rasp has me frozen, my heart lurching into my throat. Slowly, I turn around, coming face-to-face with a ghost from my

past.

Our neighbor. Margot Mitchell.

Her once vibrant auburn hair is streaked with silver, her face a

roadmap of wrinkles and scars. It's her eyes that haunt me. Piercing green eyes that see everything and do nothing.

"Margot," I greet, my voice tight with caution. "What are you doing

here?"

She limps

toward me, her gait uneven from some injury she incurred long before I was born. I remember asking about it once, and my mother slapped the back of my head, admonishing me for my rudeness. "Oh, Ava. I'm

I tense as she reaches out, half-expecting her to grab me, to drag me back to the hellscape I escaped. But she merely places a hand on my arm, her touch feather-light.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I'm so sorry for everything. For not intervening when..." She trails off, her gaze flickering to the ground.

The shame she tries to portray leaves me feeling dirty. Unclean from her mere presence.

Memories flash through my mind, unbidden. Margot's face in the

$2.00

150 As from the Pant

window, watching as I was taunted and beaten, even by her own son. Listening at the front door as my parents berated me, their voices carrying through the window. Her figure rushing inside. when I tried beggi I was thirteen.

He broke my wrist.

parents, tired of my whining, finally dragged me to

watching.

my arm away, taking a step back. "You're sorry?" Anger surges through me, hot and bitter, fueling my words. "Why

to understand, none of us could help you. Please." She grabs at my arm again. "We need you to understand us.

Ah. She needs something.

No wonder she's here.

me, almost miniscule, that was hopeful her apology was genuine. It's dead now, like so many other little parts of "How did you know I was here?" I step back, avoiding her grip,

"I am hired to clean

From

"Please, Ava. Think of your pack. So many of us are separated now. Taken from our mates. Forced to cut ties with the alpha. Westwood is tearing us apart. They sh "No." My voice is cold as I take another

repeat. "I have no intention of helping you or anyone else. from that pack.

face contorts, her features twisting into an ugly mask

her off. Selene stalks into the room, her hackles. raised, teeth bared. She positions herself

a moment, I think she might actually shift

demeanor changes instantly. She straightens, smoothing

talk when you've settled in." With that, she

to me, curiosity etched on her face.

swallow hard, trying to steady my racing heart. "An old neighbor," I

316

Aws: From

sympathy. She starts to say something, but I don't hear her. I'm already sinking to my knees, burying my

nuzzling against me as I tremble,

pain of their blows, both physical and emotional. The sinking realization that no one, not even our neighbors,

Fear, anger, betrayal-they swirl inside me, a maelstrom threatening to pull me

gentle voice breaks through the chaos. "Are

breath. A few beats of my heart, slowing down. Meeting her concerned gaze, I

adds, "Therapy isn't something to be ashamed of. If you're interested, just talk to me. Everything will be kept be Gratitude wells up inside me, and I manage a

back to Selene, running my fingers through her soft

From

edges of

sorry you had to face that, she says, her voice a gentle caress

"Strength? I'm

it head-on, even when it terrifies you. And that's