AVA
At what price are you willing to pay to save the people you care so much about, Ava?
Vincent's voice asking me that very question seemed to echo inside my head. With my thoughts still stuck on our encounter, the sound of the kettle whistling startled me.
"Get a grip, Ava," I murmured, blowing out the strand of hair that fell on my face as I turned off the stove, halting the screaming kettle. Searching the cupboards for my mug, I let out a sigh.
I felt dead tired after my shift. The weight of Vincent's words added to my exhaustion.
The silence inside the apartel didn't help ease my distress. Rafael was pulling an all nighter. He has been ever since the day of the dead, ever since Marcus Zephanie admitted his fake death.
Gratefully, he didn't ask where I had gone to while he had been preoccupied. Though, I wouldn't have told him anyway. He was too much involved already. Besides, Vincent would be a very sensitive revelation.
