AVA’S POV
I didn’t like how quiet my room was.
It was a nice room. Too nice.
The bed was soft, swallowing movement rather than creaking beneath it.
The window let in light that wasn’t filtered through cracks or dirt, and the air didn’t smell like damp stone or medicine or something slowly dying.
It wasn't just the room that was quiet; everything was.
No footsteps outside the door. No muttered voices through thin walls. No constant awareness that someone might come in without knocking and throw me out for not having the measly rent.
No reason to stay alert.
My body didn’t know what to do with that. It didn’t know how to survive in any mode but high alert.
I swung my legs once, twice, staring at the floor.
They’d brought food earlier. Warm. Fresh. Enough for three people, not one.
I’d eaten it because not eating would’ve been stupid, but the whole time I’d kept expecting someone to take it away halfway through, or tell me I’d had enough.
