CH 40 - Ava and The Puppy
CRASH
The door groaned. Ava shoved the last chair under the handle.
Another broken desk. She leaned it against the doorframe.
Not perfect—but it would do.
Her breath steamed. Every exhale thin and shaky. She slumped to the floor beside a shattered window.
Frost crept along the corners of glass. Moonlight painted pale lines across tiles.
Nieve curled up beside her. Tiny body pressed against her thigh.
"Thanks," Ava whispered.
Her voice nearly lost in silence.
Nieve licked her hand. Then nuzzled into her jacket with a sleepy grunt.
Ava smiled faintly.
Her fingers trembled.
She pulled the coat tighter. Leaned against the wall. Her head throbbed—a dull ache behind her eyes.
Each time she blinked, the world swam.
'At least the door's blocked.'
But she didn't feel safe. Not really. Just lucky.
And luck ran out fast.
She pressed her forehead to her knees. Trying to ground herself. To breathe slow. To stop shaking.
