Chapter 4 Fractures

Ava didn't sleep much after Ethan left, she just sat on the edge of Lila's bed watching her daughter's chest rise and fall with her small fists curled around a battered stuffed bunny missing one ear. In the faint glow of the streetlight outside the cracked window, the room looked smaller than ever, the walls closer, the ceiling lower and the cold draft seeping through the towel she'd stuffed around the windowpane. Every sound in the hallway made her flinch, footsteps, the creak of old floorboards and the hum of the building settling into its own groans and sighs.

Ethan's warning spun through her head on a loop, " If you don't listen, they'll bury you" . She didn't want to believe him, didn't want to believe she was worth the trouble for anyone, but the envelope in the drawer said otherwise and so did the way her gut twisted every time she replayed the moment she'd cracked that seal open. There had been no one else in the diner when Ethan had slid it to her, but there was always someone watching, wasn't there? She'd learned that young eyes in the neighborhood, in the break room, behind the counter. Everyone wanted a piece of something that wasn't theirs, then a soft cough rattled Lila's chest. Ava pressed the back of her hand to her daughter's forehead, it was warm, but not burning up. That was something,that was all she had, One more day of not worse then she pulled the thin blanket higher over Lila's shoulders, tucking it tight. Then she stood and slipped out of the room, shutting the door just enough to block the light.

In the kitchen, the junk drawer sat half-open, mocking her,the envelope was still there, she could see the corner of it peeking out beneath old batteries and unpaid bills. She thought about burning it or flushing it and pretending Ethan had never knocked on her door, never looked at her like she was someone worth saving. But she couldn't, not with Lila down the hall,then she pulled it out again,the photo inside felt heavier now and the grainy smear of the bank's security footage,the circle around the hooded man who didn't even look at the camera with the timestamp clear as day, then she remembered that day too well, how she'd argued with the loan officer and how they'd looked at her like she was wasting air and also how she'd left, holding back tears that froze on her cheeks when she stepped into the winter wind. She flipped the photo over,Ethan's writing glared at her, "They're framing you" . A noise outside made her freeze,a scrape withfootsteps and a shadow under her door. She killed the kitchen light and pressed herself flat against the wall, holding her breath, then the hallway was silent again, but the crack beneath the door glowed faintly with the flicker of the busted hall bulb.

Another sound, softer this time,then a paper slip? and a whisper of something pushed under the door. Ava waited and counted to twenty,then she crossed the linoleum,with bare feet numb against the cold floor and she crouched low and peered under the door, nothing but the thin slip of something white resting on the welcome mat that hadn't welcomed anyone in years. Her heartbeat thudded against her ribs as she unlatched the deadbolt and cracked the door. The hallway was empty, no footsteps, no lingering cigarette smoke, no neighbor pretending not to listen,just the flickering light overhead, buzzing like a dying fly, then she snatched the paper and locked the door again, throwing the bolt so hard it rattled, and she unfolded the note with shaking fingers.

"Stop talking" .

Two words with black marker and nothing else, there was no name, no signature, no clue who had been standing outside her door while she sat in the dark, wondering if Ethan was lying or telling the truth. The note slipped from her hands and drifted onto the floor like an autumn leaf, and she stared at it, willing it to disappear, but it didn't. It lay there, the words as plain and sharp as a knife pressed against her throat.

Ava sank onto the couch, pulling her knees tight to her chest,that she could feel the bruise blooming along her spine where the cheap cushions dug in. The apartment smelled like stale coffee and fear and her eyes drifted to the side table,Ethan's card was still there, half-buried under an old grocery receipt. His number and his name in blocky letters, written in the same careful hand that had scribbled " They're framing you" . She hadn't wanted to call him, she'd wanted to pretend she could handle this alone, she'd wanted to believe that if she ignored it long enough, it would go away, like the phone calls from creditors, the final notice on her rent,and the cough that rattled Lila's chest at night.

But this wouldn't go away, and pretending she was invisible wasn't working anymore,so she looked at the front door again, the flimsy lock, the dented knob, the note still lying there like a threat that could crawl under her skin and stay there forever. Ava picked up Ethan's card and held it tight between her palms and her fingers trembled as she reached for her phone on the coffee table. The cracked screen glowed weakly in the dark and she tapped in the number, each digit an anchor she didn't want but suddenly needed more than air. When the line clicked and a low, tired voice said, "Ava?", she closed her eyes and let the fear slip out in a single, shaking breath.

"I need you," she whispered.

By the time Ethan arrived, Ava had lost count of how many times she'd peered through the peephole. She hated how her hands shook when she turned the locks and how the draft from the hallway cut through her sweater like needles. When she cracked the door open, Ethan was there, just like that leaning one shoulder against the peeling wall outside her apartment. His hair was damp from the drizzle outside and a black strands clinging to his forehead, his eyes was sharp but tired in the flicker of the hallway bulb.

He didn't wait for an invitation,he slid past her into the apartment, sweeping a quick glance over the shadows, the cheap furniture and the crumpled blanket on the couch. He moved like he expected someone else to be waiting in the dark, a threat tucked behind every corner.

"You called me," he said, voice low. "That's a start."

Ava shut the door and shoved the bolt into place with a hard snap and her fingers lingered on the lock, as if that thin piece of metal was all that kept the world from swallowing her whole.

"I found this," she said, holding out the slip of paper. Her hands trembled, the paper fluttering like a dying moth between her fingers.

Ethan took it without touching her, his eyes scanning the message. "Stop talking". He frowned his face and his jaw clenching. "Anyone see who dropped it?" He asked.

"No. I heard something, when I looked, the hall was empty."

He didn't answer right away,he just turned the paper over in his hands, checking for anything else like a mark, or a print,maybe an accident someone careless might have left behind. But it was clean,just like they wanted it to be.

Ava watched him work,there was something steadying in the way he focused, shutting out the fear that pulsed like static between them. She hated needing that steadiness, hated how easily he stepped into her broken quiet and made it feel almost safe.

"I can't do this alone," she said, the words a confession that made her stomach twist. She'd spent years telling herself she could handle anything if she just stayed invisible. But invisible people didn't get threats shoved under their doors in the middle of the night.

Ethan met her eyes, a flicker of softness there, gone as quick as it came. "You're not alone anymore. Whether you like it or not."

A muffled cough drifted from Lila's room and Ava's shoulders tensed, as if the sound alone could break her open then Ethan's gaze shifted toward the closed door at the end of the hallway.

"How bad is she?" he asked.

Ava didn't want to answer because she hated the pity that crept into people's eyes when they asked about Lila, the way they backed away, as if her daughter's sickness was contagious, and a stain that would spread if they got too close.

"Bad enough," she said instead. "I can't get her to a doctor,not with what's coming."

"You'll get her to a doctor. First, we keep you out of a cell."

His certainty tasted like something sweet and bitter at the same time. Ava folded her arms tight across her chest, as if she could hold herself together by force.

"How do we do that?" she asked. "I'm broke, Ethan. I'm nothing, I'm exactly the kind of nothing people like... them... use to mop the floor and throw away."

"You're not nothing." He said it so flatly, so sharply, that for a heartbeat she almost believed him. He moved to the window, parting the frayed curtain with two fingers. Rain tapped against the glass in soft, rhythmic drips and Outside, the streetlights blurred into pale halos in the wet dark.

"They'll come back," Ethan said. "Whoever left that note wanted you rattled,they'll push harder. They want you scared enough to slip up, to run, or to say something stupid. So you won't."

Ava sank into the chair by the table, the vinyl seat creaking under hernand she pressed her palms to her forehead. "And you're what? My babysitter now?"

"No,I'm the reason you'll still be here when they get sloppy."

He pulled a folded sheet of paper from his coat pocket and laid it on the table in front of her. Ava stared at it, a blurry printout of something that looked like a ledger, lines of numbers and names that meant nothing to her.

"What's this?" she asked.

"A piece of the puzzle," Ethan said. "Money moving places it shouldn't, acounts tied to people you don't know and your name stuck in the middle,so whoever planned this has been sloppy, that's our advantage."

Ava reached for the paper, but Ethan put his hand on it first, his fingers brushing hers then Ava pulled back like she'd touched a hot stove.

"Why me?" she asked, voice tight. "Why not some other broke waitress? Why not... anyone else?"

Ethan's eyes flicked to hers, too dark, too steady. "Because you're quiet,alone,easy to blame,and because your ex put your name where it didn't belong."

Ava's breath hitched. "Kevin."

Ethan didn't say yes,he didn't have to,the word hung in the air like a ghost, sour and familiar.

"I told you he was trouble," Ethan said. "Now you know how much."

A silence settled in heavy and hard and the fridge hummed in the corner and water dripped from the faucet she hadn't bothered fixing for weeks. Ava's fingers drummed against the table, each tap a note of anger she'd never had the energy to feel. But now it simmered under her ribs, a small, dangerous heat.

"What do we do?" she asked.

Ethan's lips curved, not a smile exactly, more like the shape of one that got lost halfway through. "First, you get some sleep, I'll stay here tonight."

Ava laughed, a short, sharp sound that didn't feel like her. "You're not sleeping on my couch."

He shrugged. "Fine.Then I won't sleep, you don't even trust me enough to leave?"

"It's not you I don't trust." Ava said.

Another cough from Lila's room broke the standoff and Ava rubbed her eyes, exhaustion dragging at her bones. "Ethan..." Her voice cracked, softer now, "What happens when they come for me?" He looked at her then really looked, like he was memorizing the exact shape of her fearand his hand brushed hers again, deliberate this time.

"Then I'll be here to stop them," he said.

And for the first time, the apartment didn't feel quite so small, quite so cold, just a little warmer in the dark, even with danger tapping on the windows like rain.