Dylan's Point of View
The moment Ava finished speaking, the air in the study changed—
tightened, sharpened, like something invisible had snapped taut between all of us.
The threatening text still glared from her phone screen, the letters feeling louder than any shout
My pulse hammered so hard it shook my ribs.
Ava—this warm, steady, stubborn girl who never asked for any of this—was now the target of someone who had already hurt people.
Someone who believed threats weren't enough. I stared at her, hardly blinking.
"You should've told me immediately," I repeated, my voice rougher than before.
Ava didn't flinch. She stepped closer.
"You've been dealing with a lot," she said softly. "And I didn't want to add to it."
"That's not your decision to make," I snapped. Then regretted it instantly when she flinched. I exhaled, pinching the bridge of my nose before looking at her again.
