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 my whining, finally dragged me to

watching.

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

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

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

"I am hired to clean the lodge. I

Ava From the

us are separated now. Taken from our mates. Forced to cut ties with the alpha. Westwood is tearing us apart. They sh

have no intention of helping you or

features twisting into an ugly mask of rage.

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

she might actually shift and

demeanor changes instantly. She straightens, smoothing her expression into one of

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

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

my racing heart. "An old neighbor," I

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Aws: From the

Vanessa's eyes, followed by sympathy. She starts to say something, but I don't hear

against me as I tremble,

and emotional. The sinking realization that no one, not even our neighbors, would help me Breathe, Ava, Selene murmurs in my

Fear, anger, betrayal-they

voice breaks through the

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

me." She pauses, then 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 shaky

attention back to Selene, running my fingers through

From the

edges of

she says, her voice a gentle caress in my

me. "Strength?

fear, Ava. It's facing it head-on, even when it terrifies you.