It was the first time Ava had sat on a couch that didn't stink of stale beer or feel like it might collapse beneath her.
She didn't even realize how tight her shoulders had been until she sank into Vera's old, cushion-worn loveseat and felt her spine finally relax. Tess was curled up beside her, still towel-drying her damp hair. She wore one of Vera's old oversized shirts, the hem nearly reaching her knees, and a pair of leggings that bunched at the ankles. The clean clothes felt strange against her skin — like she didn't deserve them yet.
Vera sat across from them on the floor, legs folded, leaning back against the edge of her bed with a half-empty cup of instant ramen in hand. The apartment was small — one room, one bathroom, barely enough space for three — but it was warm and clean and smelled faintly of coconut oil and something spicy from earlier in the week. The soft hum of the mini fridge in the kitchenette was the only background noise.
No yelling. No footsteps to fear.
No Marcus.
Just for tonight, they were safe.
For a long while, they just sat there, letting the silence stretch between them. It wasn't awkward. It was heavy, but peaceful — the kind of quiet that came after a long storm. Like they were all just catching their breath.
Eventually, Vera set her cup down on the nightstand and looked at Ava with a tired smile.
"So," she said, gently but without tiptoeing, "what happened? The last time I saw you, you were fourteen. And now you show up at my door with a girl who you call your sister. And you clearly haven't been in a good condition so I won't ask how you've been. I want to know what happened after I left. Spill it."
Ava glanced down at her hands, fingers curled tight around the hem of the borrowed hoodie she wore.
"It's... a lot," she said quietly. "You really want to know?"
"I wouldn't ask if I didn't."
Ava nodded slowly, then leaned back. Her voice came out steady, but distant — not detached, just practiced. Like she'd told herself the story enough times in her head to keep the pain manageable.
"I bounced through a couple foster homes after you left but it was temporal. The longest I stayed at one was three weeks. Then, about three years ago, I got sent to Marcus." The name sat on her tongue like acid. "He wasn't... great."
Vera didn't interrupt. She didn't press for details, and Ava was grateful.
"And Tess?" Vera asked, looking over at the girl beside her.
Ava's expression softened. "We met about three years ago, right after she lost her parents. Car accident, not long after they landed in the country. No one could trace her extended family, so she ended up in foster care too. That's when she was placed in the same house."
"She's not your sister, but…" Vera began.
"She is," Ava finished firmly. "Doesn't matter if the blood's not there. She's been my anchor all this while."
"Woah, calm down. You didn't even let me finish."
"Sorry. I grow sensitive about anything that involves her. Most people say what you just said often but they always use that as a reason to tell me to back off. Especially those days when we were in school."
Tess blinked up at her, then gave Vera a small, shy smile. "She once scared off a whole group of boys at school who were making fun of my accent. She told them if they ever looked at me sideways again, they'd have to learn to blink with black eyes."
Vera laughed — a real one. Ava's ears turned pink.
"Did you really say that Ava?"
"I was fifteen and full of rage," Ava mumbled. "It worked."
Tess giggled softly. "She got suspended."
"I regret nothing."
It was quiet again, but lighter this time. Vera studied Ava for a beat longer, then leaned back against the bed, her expression unreadable for a moment. She picked at a thread on her sleeve and said quietly, "I stayed here, you know. In this apartment. All these years."
Ava looked up. "You did?"
Vera nodded. "This was the address I gave you. I don't know... I guess part of me hoped you'd come looking one day."
Ava swallowed the knot rising in her throat. "I didn't even know if you were still in the city."
"I wasn't sure either," Vera admitted, a bit of a smile playing at her lips. "But I couldn't leave. Not really. Something told me you might need me."
Ava lowered her gaze, suddenly overwhelmed. She didn't know what to say to that — how to put into words what it meant to have someone wait for her. Believe she might come back when the whole world had written her off.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
Vera just nodded. "So… what's the plan now?"
Ava sighed. "I wish I had one."
"Well, lucky for you, I've gotten pretty good at making it up as I go."
Ava smiled — but then something stirred inside her. A flicker of suspicion, faint but undeniable. She tilted her head slightly and asked, "What about you? What have you been up to these past three years?"
Vera froze for a second.
It wasn't obvious. Just a pause — a breath too long, a glance to the side.
"Oh, you know," she said casually, standing and gathering up the empty cups. "Got a few jobs. Lost a few. Got better at keeping the ones I like."
But something in the way she said it felt... off.
Ava watched her closely, noting the way she avoided her eyes.
"You are leaving something out."
Vera chuckled under her breath. "Don't I always?"
Ava narrowed her eyes, but said nothing. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe she was just tired. Maybe Vera had secrets the same way Ava did — things you didn't say out loud until the world forced it from you.
So she brushed it off. For now.
---
The dishes clinked softly in the sink as Vera started rinsing them out.
Tess had fallen asleep, curled up against Ava's side like a cat. Her breathing was slow and even, her fingers loosely wrapped around Ava's sleeve like she was afraid she'd drift away.
Vera glanced over from the sink. "You okay?"
Ava nodded slowly. "I think I am. For now."
"Hey," Vera said. "Don't say that. As long as I'm here, I'll make sure that you won't be okay just for now. But rather, forever."