At 2 A.M., a Hidden

A small brass key attached to a tag that read: For the room with regular doors.

I looked at her, confused.

Ava smiled.

“You turned that room near us into your office. But you still ask if it’s okay to work there late.”

“I don’t want you to feel abandoned.”

“I don’t,” she said. “Not anymore.”

The words hit me harder than I expected.

She stepped closer.

“I need continue reading …