Tess didn't stir — not once.
From the plane to the car, all the way through the drive into a new city, she remained curled up in Ava's arms, fast asleep, her breath soft against Ava's hoodie. Her weight was familiar. Comforting. Heavy, but grounding.
Ava kept looking down at her face during the ride, brushing her hair gently off her cheeks every few minutes. Maybe it was the flight. Maybe just exhaustion. Either way, she was glad Tess didn't wake.
Because if she had — she might've freaked out again.
The last time she'd been on a plane, she lost both her parents.
Ava still remembered how Tess had clung to her hand before takeoff, her face pale and tight with anxiety. Her entire body shook when the wheels left the runway, and only settled after Ava whispered soft reassurances over and over. Now, back on land, the fact that she was still asleep felt like a blessing.
They drove through a quiet part of the city. No horns. No music blaring from street corners. Just the sound of tires rolling over clean asphalt and the occasional streetlamp blinking past the tinted windows. The buildings here were taller, sleeker. Not the cracked, rusting kinds they were used to. These had security gates. Flowerbeds that were actually maintained. Windows that gleamed like mirrors.
When the car finally stopped, Vera climbed out first and held the door open.
Ava stepped out carefully, still cradling Tess. Her arms ached, but she didn't complain. Vera offered to help, but Ava shook her head. She wasn't ready to let go yet.
The building in front of them was nothing like she imagined — not an abandon house for someone in hiding like she feared— it was different. Clean. Sharp edges. Dark bricks and tall windows. A silver keypad blinked by the door.
Vera punched in a code someone must have given her, and the door buzzed open.
They climbed up three flights of stairs, the silence only broken by their footsteps. The air in the stairwell was cold and smelled faintly of detergent. New. Too new.
Ava's eyes scanned everything — the white walls, the absence of cracks, the metal railing that wasn't loose or bent. Even the hallway carpet was spotless.
When Vera unlocked the door to the apartment, Ava held her breath.
Inside was nothing short of unfamiliar.
It didn't try to pretend to be some cramped, lived-in space either. The furniture was minimal — black and cream tones. A sleek gray couch sat in the center of the living room with a glass table in front of it. The kitchen area had marble counters, and the fridge didn't hum or buzz like a dying machine. Everything looked new. Barely touched. Too clean.
No chipped plates. No squeaky floorboards. No peeling paint on the walls.
This place wasn't pretending to be normal — it just wasn't.
It was expensive.
It was temporary.
And it wasn't theirs. She thought sadly to herself.
Ava laid Tess down on the nearest bed in one of the two bedrooms. The sheets were crisp and smelled faintly of lavender. She tucked her in, brushing her fingers gently over her forehead. Tess shifted but didn't wake. Her breathing was still steady.
Vera stood by the door, arms crossed, as Ava pulled the blanket up to Tess's chin.
"She didn't wake up?" Vera asked, her voice low.
Ava shook her head. "No. Thank God."
"She'll sleep through the night," Vera said. "Let her."
Ava exhaled and sat on the edge of the bed. Her legs were stiff, her brain cloudy with everything she wasn't saying.
Vera walked to the window and pulled the curtain closed before speaking again.
"I know you have questions," she said, tone even. "And I know you're not going to let them go. But save them."
Ava turned toward her slowly, expression unreadable. "What do you mean, save them?"
"I mean save them for tomorrow. You've had a long day. And I don't have the energy for a full interrogation tonight."
Ava scoffed, barely biting back her irritation. "Really? After dragging us across the city without a single explanation, now you decide we need rest?"
Vera met her gaze evenly. "Yes."
Silence.
Vera sighed and added, softer this time, "I'll tell you everything. But not now. You'll need to be in the right headspace for it."
Ava didn't trust that. Not even a little. But she was too tired to argue. And Tess still needed her.
"One more thing," Vera said as she turned toward the door. "Don't say anything to Tess. Not about this place, not about me, not about what's going on."
Ava blinked. "What?"
"She's in danger if she knows too much," Vera said. "That's not drama. That's fact."
"She's not naive, " Ava replied.
"I know. But that doesn't change anything."
Vera lingered for a moment like she wanted to say more, then turned and left the room without another word.
---
Later that night…
Ava stayed awake longer than she meant to.
She lay on the other bed, eyes wide open in the dark room, the soft rhythm of Tess's breathing the only sound anchoring her.
She turned her head slowly to watch her. Tess looked peaceful, her hands curled near her face, her lips parted slightly as she slept. She hadn't even stirred since they arrived.
And Ava was grateful.
She didn't want her waking up in this strange place, asking questions she couldn't answer. Not yet. Not when she had no idea what Vera was dragging them into.
Ava sat up quietly and walked over to Tess's bed. She crouched beside her, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek.
> "You didn't wake up. Good," she whispered.
"You would've panicked all over again. I don't even know if I could've faced you this time…"
Her throat tightened.
She didn't cry. She never cried.
But the pressure was there — the fear, the weight of every decision she had made in the last forty-eight hours.
> "I'll figure this out. I'll protect you. I always do."
She stayed like that a while, just watching Tess breathe.
Then finally, she lay back down and let the silence of the strange apartment swallow her whole.
She didn't sleep.
Not really.
But she didn't move either.
She was waiting.
For answers.
For morning.
For the truth Vera promised to give her — even if she wasn't sure she wanted to hear it.