Ava's Pov:
I stopped checking my phone.
Not because I didn't want to know what people were saying—but because I already knew. It was the same thing over and over again. Different accounts, different words, same meaning.
Gold digger.
Opportunist.
Desperate.
At some point, it stopped feeling like strangers talking about me and started feeling like facts I was supposed to accept.
So I stopped opening anything.
I left my phone face down most of the time, like it was some kind of threat just waiting for me to look at it. Even when it buzzed, I ignored it. Calls, texts, notifications—I didn't care anymore. If it wasn't Leon or Pearl calling my name directly, I didn't want to hear it.
I stayed inside.
It started as a choice. Then it turned into something I couldn't control.
The house felt…safe. Not in a comforting way, just in a "nothing can get to me here" kind of way. No cameras. No whispers. No people staring at me like they already made up their minds about who I was.
