Capítulo 22: Shadows and Silence
A month.
Thirty days, but it felt like a lifetime. The mornings came and went, blending into the nights like smeared charcoal on a blank page. My room was dark, the heavy curtains drawn shut, sealing out the world I no longer cared to see.
I lay on my bed, staring at the screen of my phone, scrolling aimlessly. Social media, videos, games—it didn't matter. Nothing could distract me for more than a few seconds before her face crept back into my mind.
Ava.
Her name echoed in my thoughts like a heartbeat. I shook my head and opened Mr. Spy, the app where we used to talk. I searched the leaderboards, the chats, even the old games we used to play.
But she wasn't there.
It was as if she had vanished, erased herself from my world entirely. I stared at her old profile name, hoping—praying—that the little green dot indicating she was online would appear. It didn't.
"She's gone," I muttered to myself, the words heavy.
I knew why. My mother.
She must have told her about the engagement. The staged dinners, the fake smiles with Veronica—it was all part of some grand plan for "our legacy." Ava must've thought I had betrayed her.
I gripped the phone tighter, my knuckles turning white. The idea of her believing I didn't love her, that I was just another lie in her life, made my chest ache.
I should've stopped her. I should've done more.
The ceiling above me blurred as my eyes stung with unshed tears. I'd never felt so powerless, so lost. She was the one thing that made life feel real, and now, without her, it was like I was suffocating in a void.
Life sucked.
I tossed the phone onto the bed and closed my eyes, willing myself to stop thinking about her. But she was everywhere—in the silence, in the darkness, in the hollow ache that had settled in my chest.
"I'll find you, Ava," I whispered to no one. "No matter how long it takes."
But even as I said it, the hopelessness lingered. She was gone, and I didn't know if she'd ever come back.
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