The silence between Ava and Rayen stretched, not awkward—but loaded. The unsaid words, the silent questions, the almost-confessions that hung in the air like mist over still water. Ava sat on the edge of the bed, her fingers absently playing with the hem of the oversized t-shirt she wore—Rayen's.
Rayen leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching her. Not with judgment. With worry.
"Are you going to pretend last night didn't happen?" Ava finally asked, voice softer than a whisper.
Rayen didn't answer immediately. He pushed off the doorframe and walked toward her, crouching in front of her until their eyes met.
"I'm not pretending. I'm just… trying to figure out what this means for us."
"For us?" she repeated, heart thudding against her ribs.
He nodded. "Ava, I don't regret anything. But I also know you've been through a storm. I don't want to be another one."
Her eyes glistened. "You're not. You're the only thing that feels real."
There it was—spoken, raw, vulnerable.
He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Then let me be real. Let me be someone who stays."
She closed her eyes, letting the warmth of his words seep into her bones. "I'm scared," she admitted. "Of trusting. Of falling. Of being left… again."
Rayen's jaw tightened. "Then I'll stand still until you're ready to fall."
---
Later that day, the sun was high, but Ava's world felt cold. An email arrived from her father's lawyer—it wasn't just the inheritance. Her father had left her a key. To a storage unit. No explanation.
Rayen offered to go with her, and despite her instinct to say no, she agreed.
The unit was old, the lock rusty. Inside were boxes stacked neatly, and an old photo frame that caught her eye immediately. It was her parents—smiling. But not just them. There was someone else. A woman. Young. Her father's hand rested protectively on her shoulder.
"Who is she?" Ava murmured.
Rayen picked up an envelope taped to the back of the frame. "There's a letter."
Ava's fingers trembled as she unfolded it.
> "My dearest Ava,
There are things I never told you. Secrets I swore to take to my grave—not to protect myself, but to protect you. The woman in the photo is your sister. Her name is Elira. She was taken from us before you were born. And you were never supposed to find out."
Ava dropped the letter. Her breath hitched. Sister? A sister she never knew?
"What the hell is this?" she whispered, backing away.
Rayen caught her arms gently. "We'll figure this out. Together."
But Ava's mind was spiraling. Why had this been hidden? Who took Elira? Why had her father never told her?
---
That night, Ava couldn't sleep. Every creak in her apartment made her jump. She sat in bed, the photo frame beside her, Elira's smiling face haunting her more than comforting.
Suddenly, her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number: You shouldn't have opened the storage unit.
Her blood ran cold.
Then another message: She's not dead. But she should be.
She stared at the screen, her chest tightening. Who was sending this? What did they mean?
Her heart pounded. Was this the reason her father kept the secret?
---
To be continued...