She collapsed onto the couch like her bones had turned to ash, arms limp at her sides, Vera's apartment spinning around her in uneven blurs. The anger had carried her all the way home. But now that she was here — now that there was no one to yell at, nothing to prove — it cracked.
The silence in the apartment stretched long after Vera left for an emergency after trying to comfort her.
Vera had tried to calm her down. Had handed her water and muttered something about terrible bosses and sleazy customers. Had said it wasn't Ava's fault — none of it was. That the world was rigged and some people just knew how to twist it better.
Ava had listened.
But only halfway.
Because all she could hear was that man's smug voice echoing in her head, calling her a liar.
Her hands were still trembling. She hadn't noticed until now.
The nerve of that man.
The manager's smug face.
The way he cut her off like her side didn't matter — like she wasn't even real.
She barely registered the sound of the door opening.
"Ava?" Tess's voice floated in softly. "You're back already?"
Ava sat up quickly, brushing her palms over her jeans like that would smooth out everything she was feeling. "Yeah," she said, her voice tight but steady. "Slow day at the café. They sent me home early."
Tess stepped closer, her expression uncertain. "I… heard you talking to Vera."
Ava froze for half a second.
Of course. The walls in this place were paper-thin.
Tess looked down. "You got fired?"
Ava took a breath, then crouched down so they were at eye level. She didn't lie — not this time. "Yeah. I did. But it's not a big deal. We'll be okay."
"Are you sure?"
Ava placed a hand on her shoulder. "I've never been more sure. Come here." Ava said opening her arms for an embrace.
The little girl nodded, slowly, then reached out and wrapped her arms around Ava's waist. She didn't say anything else. She didn't need to.
Ava held her there until her breathing gradually slowed down, until she felt the tension melt out of the small body pressed against her. Eventually, Tess dozed off, her head nestled in the crook of Ava's arm.
Ava carried her to the mattress and pulled the blanket up to her chin, brushing a stray curl from her forehead.
Then she sat back on the floor and stared at the ceiling, wondering how long she could keep pretending to be strong.
---
Vera came home about an hour later, keys jingling, a plastic bag of takeout in her hand. She dropped it on the counter and slipped off her boots, clocking Ava's expression instantly.
"You okay?"
Ava shrugged. "That depends on your definition of okay."
Vera walked over and nudged her leg with a toe. "You're allowed to be pissed, you know. Don't bottle it all up like a stoic martyr."
"I'm not pissed," Ava muttered. "I'm just… disappointed. I really tried."
"I know you did."
Ava looked down. "I swear, I didn't even curse at the guy. He just made up the whole thing and the manager believed him without a second thought."
"You don't have to explain yourself to me." Vera's voice was calm, firm. "You tried. That's more than enough."
Ava shook her head. "It's not. You've already done so much. This place, the food. I hate depending on you like this."
Vera rolled her eyes and flopped onto the bed. "Ava. Don't start with that crap."
"I'm serious. I'll pay you back. The second I find something."
"You're not paying me back. This is what friends do."
Ava didn't argue further. But deep down, the words I will were etched in stone.
---
The next morning, the sky was already dark with clouds.
Vera stood at the kitchen counter, sipping coffee and tying her curls into a ponytail. "I've got an early shift at the salon," she said. "Back by three. You and Tess can finish the leftovers if you get hungry."
Ava nodded from the table. "Be safe."
"You too. Don't open the door for anyone unless it's me or pizza."
She left with a wink and a wave, slamming the door behind her.
Ava took another sip of her coffee — then frowned.
The umbrella was still by the shoe rack.
She grabbed it quickly and rushed to the window. The forecast had said there'd be a heavy rain by mid-morning, and knowing Vera, she'd just dash out without a second thought. Ava knew how precious even a half-day's pay could be. She couldn't let her best friend get soaked just because she forgot her umbrella.
So she slipped on her shoes and sprinted down the stairs.
She figured Vera couldn't have gotten far — maybe still waiting at the corner for the bus or checking her phone.
But when Ava rounded the front of the building, she stopped dead.
There, parked by the curb, was a matte-black Velar.
Not just any car.
A statement car. Expensive, sleek, too clean for this neighborhood. Definitely not something a hair salon worker got picked up in.
And Vera was getting into the back seat.
A man — dressed in crisp clothes, looking expensive — held the door for her. Another figure sat in the front seat, barely visible behind the tinted windshield.
Ava ducked behind the wall of the building instinctively, peeking around the corner.
Vera said something to the man, then laughed. That laugh — Ava knew it. The soft, flirty one. The one she used when she was on, when she was trying to win someone over.
And then she slid into the car like it was second nature.
Like this wasn't new.
Ava's grip tightened around the umbrella. She blinked, trying to process what she was seeing.
What the hell…?
The car pulled off smoothly, disappearing into traffic like it belonged to the city itself.
And Vera…
Vera didn't even glance back.
---
Ava stood frozen on the curb, the umbrella forgotten in her hand, her heart hammering harder with each second.
She wasn't sure what hurt more — the fact that Vera had lied, or the fact that she was so good at it.
Hair salon?
That wasn't a hair salon shift. That was something else.
And suddenly, all the little signs she'd brushed off came flooding back.
Even though the apartment was not in an expensive neighborhood, she couldn't say the same for her belongings inside.
The expensive purse.
The brand-name clothes mostly limited edition.
Luxurious perfumes.
The way Vera avoided her questions about work.
She had been leaving things out.
And Ava had let it slide.
But now... now she couldn't.