Ava’s POV
The west wing was quieter than the rest of the house.
After Corren’s warning, I had stayed where he told me to stay. The rooms were beautiful and spacious, but the restriction made the walls feel closer than they had the day before. I heard distant movement—doors, low voices, the occasional sound of a car on the gravel—but nothing close. Whatever business had brought the visitor that morning remained carefully separated from me.
By early afternoon the silence had begun to press on me. I sat on the window seat in my room with my phone in my hand, scrolling without purpose, until the familiar name on the screen made me pause.
Maya.
My best friend since secondary school. The only person who still sent me voice notes at odd hours and remembered how I took my coffee. I had been a
