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.

that day. Hours. Until my parents, tired

watching. Never

Anger surges through me, hot and bitter, fueling my words. "Why are you even saying that? What does

of us could help you. Please." She grabs at my arm

Ah. She needs something.

No wonder she's here.

boil in my veins, even as my stomach churns. There's a tiny part of 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

"I am hired to clean the lodge.

From

you." Her eyes fill with tears. "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

no intention of helping you or anyone else. from that pack. Not after everything I

contorts, her features twisting into an ugly mask of

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

amber. For a moment, I think she might actually shift

demeanor changes instantly. She

clipped. "We can talk when you've settled in." With that, she turns and flees the room, brushing past a bewildered

to me, curiosity etched on her face. "Who

racing heart. "An old neighbor," I manage, my voice shaking slightly.

316

Aws: From the

by sympathy. She starts to say something, but I don't hear her. I'm already sinking to my knees, burying my face in Selene's thick

me as I tremble, overwhelmed by the unexpected confrontation

The sinking realization that no one, not even our neighbors, would help me Breathe, Ava, Selene

right, but it doesn't stop the flood of emotions. Fear, anger, betrayal-they swirl inside me, a maelstrom

through the

breath. A few beats of my heart, slowing down.

in her eyes. "I'll be in the other room if you need me." She pauses, then adds, "Therapy isn't something to be ashamed of. If

leaves, I turn my attention back to Selene, running my fingers through her soft fur. Her presence is

From the

of

a gentle caress in my mind. But you handled it with strength and

me. "Strength? I'm shaking

the absence of fear, Ava. It's facing it head-on, even