Ava's POV
The days that followed were uneasy in a way Ava hadn't experienced before.
Nothing happened and yet everything felt wrong.
She noticed it in the way Hazel double-checked the locks before going to bed. In the way Ava scanned the street before stepping outside, her senses sharpened, alert to movements that once would've gone unnoticed. Fear didn't announce itself loudly. It seeped in quietly, settling into habits.
Ava hated that most of all.
At work, she struggled to concentrate. Words blurred on her screen, meetings passed without meaning. Her phone sat beside her keyboard, silent but heavy with expectation. Hayden hadn't pushed for contact. He'd sent one message I'm here if you need me and then waited.
That restraint mattered more than he probably realized.
That evening, Ava accompanied Hazel to her doctor's appointment. The waiting room smelled faintly of disinfectant and chamomile tea, an odd mix of sterility and comfort. Hazel sat beside her, fingers laced together tightly.
"I didn't expect to be this scared," Hazel admitted softly.
Ava glanced at her. "Of the baby?"
"Of everything else," Hazel replied. "The world feels… sharper lately."
Ava understood. "That doesn't mean you're weak. It means you're paying attention."
Hazel smiled faintly. "You always know what to say."
"I'm learning," Ava said.
The appointment went well. The baby was healthy. Strong heartbeat. Normal development. Relief washed over Hazel in visible waves, her shoulders relaxing for the first time in days.
As they left the clinic, Ava felt a strange mixture of gratitude and dread. Life was continuing, growing, even as shadows lingered at the edges.
They didn't notice the man across the street at first.
He stood near a parked car, pretending to scroll through his phone. Too still. Too deliberate.
Ava felt it before she saw it a tightening in her chest, a warning pulse beneath her skin.
"Hazel," she murmured. "Don't look. Just keep walking."
Hazel stiffened. "What is it?"
"I think we're being watched."
They crossed the street quickly. Ava glanced back.
The man moved.
Her heart slammed hard against her ribs.
They didn't run. Ava forced herself to stay calm, guiding Hazel toward a crowded café nearby. As soon as they stepped inside, the noise and movement swallowed them whole. Ava watched through the glass as the man hesitated outside, scanned the room, then turned away.
Only when he disappeared did Ava release the breath she'd been holding.
Hazel's hands were shaking.
"That wasn't paranoia," Hazel whispered.
"No," Ava said quietly. "It wasn't."
That night, Ava called Hayden.
"He followed us," she said as soon as he answered.
Hayden didn't ask questions. "I'm coming over."
When he arrived, his jaw was tight, his movements precise. Fear had sharpened him too.
"We can't keep pretending this will go away," he said. "Marcus is escalating."
Ava nodded. "Then we don't stay quiet anymore."
Together, they documented everything dates, times, descriptions. Hayden contacted a lawyer. Hazel agreed to stay with Ava for a while, despite her protests about being a burden.
"You're not," Ava said firmly. "You're family."
Later, after Hazel had fallen asleep on the couch, Ava and Hayden stood on opposite sides of the kitchen counter.
"I hate that you're in this because of me," Hayden said.
Ava met his eyes. "I'm in this because I chose not to walk away."
The honesty between them felt fragile but real like glass catching light.
Hayden swallowed. "If at any point you want out"
"I'll tell you," Ava said. "But don't decide for me."
He nodded.
That night, lying awake, Ava listened to the sounds of Hazel breathing softly in the other room. Fear lingered, but it no longer ruled her.
She had named it.
And somehow, that made all the difference.