Ava's POV
I’ve never liked arriving at the Williams house at night. It always feels bigger than it should, like a stage waiting for actors. Tonight the drive up the long, tree-lined lane felt colder than it should have. I wrapped my coat tighter around me and rehearsed the smile that would be required: polite, warm, not the kind that reaches the eyes.
The front door opened before I could knock. My mother stood there in heels that made the marble porch look even grander, hair pulled into that exact twist she uses when she wants to look impossibly calm. The foyer swallowed me in the way it always has, high ceilings, a wide staircase with a dark oak banister, a chandelier that threw small suns across the polished floor. I remembered being small here, running under the stairs, listening to t
