Ava's POV
Ava hadn't realized how quiet her apartment was until it wasn't.
Now, the silence was broken by humming, the soft slap of slippers on tile, and the rhythmic crash of drawers being opened and overstuffed. Lena was a storm of color and energy, and Ava—used to muted grays and careful stillness—found herself a little overwhelmed.
But in the best way.
> "Do you ever wear anything that isn't black, beige, or depressing?" Lena asked, holding up one of Ava's oversized sweaters like it offended her.
Ava, cross-legged on her bed, shrugged. "It's comfy."
> "You're rich," Lena said dramatically. "Dress like it. You could be an art goddess. A stylish mystery. A muse. Instead, you dress like a sad librarian."
Ava rolled her eyes, trying not to smile. "You love sad librarians."
> "I do," Lena grinned. "But I'm trying to evolve you."
Ava pulled her sketchbook into her lap and started shading again. She had been working on a new piece — a faceless man in shadows, his posture guarded. Mysterious. Familiar. Too familiar.
Lena leaned over her shoulder.
> "Ooooh. Who's that supposed to be? The guy you bumped into?"
Ava quickly turned the page.
> "No one."
Lena smirked. "Mmmhmm."
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Nathan's POV
Nathan sat in his car, half-hidden behind a tree across from the apartment building. The file was open on his lap again — the one with the grainy photo of Avery Queen, teenage misfit of the Queen Empire. Wild child. Rumored to have run off. The file said she had no known contact with Monica or her family. No presence on social media. A vanishing act.
Yet now... he couldn't ignore the possibility.
He sipped cold coffee and tapped the picture with the end of his pen. The girl in the file had bad posture, round glasses, and a permanent frown. But something in the eyes… the same haunted edge he'd seen in Ava.
> "Damn it," he muttered. "Are you Avery Queen?"
He had tried subtle probes. Small talk in passing. Hints. But Ava gave nothing. Either she was innocent — or she had buried Avery so deep that even she forgot how to be her.
Still, something else had caught his attention today: a second girl walking into Ava's building with a suitcase.
A new variable.
He zoomed in with the small lens on his dash. The friend — curly-haired, loud, confident. Not the type to keep secrets. Maybe he could learn more through her.
> "Let's see what you know, roommate."
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Ava's POV – Later that Night
Ava curled up in bed, lights off, room quiet except for Lena's soft singing from the bathroom.
She'd almost forgotten what it was like not to feel alone.
But something still stirred under her skin — a weight, a pressure she couldn't shake. Like someone was watching. Following. Waiting.
She didn't know it yet, but across the street, behind tinted glass, someone was.
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