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.

for hours that day. Hours. Until my parents, tired of

watching.

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

Please." She grabs at my arm again. "We need you to understand us. To speak for

Ah. She needs something.

No wonder she's here.

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 step back, avoiding her grip, and

am hired to clean the lodge.

From

of your pack. So many of us are separated now. Taken from our mates. Forced to cut ties with the

helping you or anyone else. from that pack.

into an ugly mask of rage. "You

the room, her hackles. raised, teeth bared. She

eyes flashing amber. For a moment, I think she might actually shift and attack. My heart pounds against my ribs,

and Margot's demeanor changes instantly. She straightens, smoothing her expression

find you again later," she says, her tone clipped. "We can talk when you've settled in." With that, she turns and flees the room, brushing

then turns to me, curiosity etched on her face. "Who was

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

316

Aws: From the

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

tremble, overwhelmed by

jeers and taunts of my packmates. The pain of their blows, both physical and emotional. The sinking realization that no one, not even our neighbors, would help me Breathe, Ava, Selene murmurs in my mind. You're safe now. She

emotions. Fear, anger, betrayal-they swirl inside me, a

through the chaos.

slowing down. Meeting her concerned

need me." She pauses, then adds, "Therapy isn't something to be ashamed of. If you're

my

From

edges of

that, she says, her voice a gentle caress in

escapes me. "Strength?

Ava. It's facing it head-on, even when it terrifies you. And that's exactly what