The next morning felt different.
Not dramatically.
Nothing obvious had changed.
The sun still rose over Maple Street. The birds still sang outside Ava's bedroom window. The house still smelled faintly of coffee and fresh laundry.
Everything looked normal.
The problem was that Ava wasn't.
She had spent most of the night replaying Noah's words.
Be careful about us.
The sentence had followed her into sleep.
It lingered now as she stood in front of her bathroom mirror brushing her hair.
Us.
Not you.
Not me.
Us.
The word implied something existed.
Something worth worrying about.
Something worth protecting.
Or avoiding.
Ava hated how much she liked the idea.
She hated it even more because Noah clearly liked it too.
The realization should have scared her.
Instead, it made her
