Chapter 5 - Ava Did Not Leave Alone
The old service exit opened into an alley behind the neighboring laundromat.
Not dramatic.
A rusted steel door.
Three concrete steps.
A dumpster.
Five years ago the laundromat had been a print shop.
Walter showed me where Ava had gone.
“She came through here?”
“Yes.”
“Then what?”
“I don't know.”
Mason stood near the doorway.
He said nothing until I turned toward him.
“You know more.”
His jaw tightened.
“Yes.”
Walter stared.
“What?”
Interesting.
Mason had a secret Walter didn't know.
“After Ava left, I followed her.”
My pulse changed.
“How far?”
“Parking lot.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to apologize.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
Of course.
“What happened?”
A car was waiting.
Dark sedan.
Woman driving.
“Who?”
“I didn't know then.”
“Now?”
Mason looked at Walter.
“Nora Quinn.”
Walter went still.
“You saw Nora?”
“Yes.”
“You told me Ava left on foot.”
Mason looked ashamed.
“I lied.”
Walter laughed once.
Not humor.
Five years of mutual protection discovering asymmetry.
“Why?”
Mason said:
“Because I knew you would ask Nora where she took her.”
Walter stared.
“You thought I would tell Daniel.”
“Yes.”
That hurt Walter.
He deserved some of it.
I asked:
“Who is Nora?”
Walter answered slowly.
“She used to train here.”
“What else?”
“She volunteers with an organization that helps people leaving unsafe homes.”
“Was she helping Ava?”
“Yes.”
“Where did she take her?”
“I don't know.”
I looked at Mason.
“Do you?”
“No.”
“Did Dad see the car?”
“No.”
“What did he think happened?”
“That Ava walked away.”
“Did he follow?”
“For about half an hour.”
“Then?”
“He came back.”
“What did he say?”
Mason's face tightened.
“That Ava would cool off.”
I laughed.
My father had spent the next morning calling hospitals.
By afternoon, police.
Within two days, missing-person posters.
“Did he know Nora existed?”
“No.”
“Did he ever learn?”
Mason hesitated.
That was yes.
“When?”
“Months later.”
“How?”
“I told him.”
Walter swore under his breath.
I stepped closer to Mason.
“You did it twice.”
Mason looked up.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He kept asking me.”
“That answer is garbage.”
“I know.”
“Try again.”
His eyes hardened.
“Because Ava had taken her training bag.”
“What?”
“The night she left, her bag was still here.”
I looked toward the basement.
“What was in it?”
“Clothes. Wallet. Phone.”
My stomach dropped.
“She left without her wallet?”
“Yes.”
“Phone?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Nora had a car.”
“That's not what I mean.”
I had spent five years telling police:
Ava would never leave without her phone.
Turns out she had.
Just not voluntarily.
“What did you do with the bag?”
Mason looked away.
“Kept it.”
“For how long?”
“Two days.”
My anger sharpened.
“Why?”
“I thought she would come back.”
“And when she didn't?”
“I gave it to Daniel.”
I stared.
Not police.
Dad.
“Why?”
“He said he'd get it to her when she calmed down.”
“You knew he couldn't.”
“I thought he might know where she was.”
“You thought the man she was hiding from should keep her phone.”
Mason's eyes closed.
“Yes.”
“What happened to it?”
“Daniel said he turned everything over to police.”
I knew the police inventory.
Ava's phone wasn't there.
Neither was her wallet.
My heartbeat changed.
“Dad kept them.”
Walter looked at me.
“Maybe.”
I wanted to call my mother immediately.
Instead Mason continued.
“Three months later, Daniel came here.”
“What for?”
“He asked me about Nora.”
“How did he know her name?”
Mason's mouth tightened.
“I told him.”
Second betrayal.
“What did he say?”
“That Ava had called.”
Everything inside me stopped.
“When?”
“About a week earlier.”
Walter turned.
“You never told me that.”
Mason shook his head.
“Daniel made me promise.”
I stared at him.
“Ava called Dad.”
“That's what he said.”
“From where?”
“He didn't tell me.”
“What did she want?”
Mason looked straight at me.
“Her bag.”
My knees weakened.
Ava had been alive three months after disappearing.
May you like
My father knew.
And by the end of that same week, he was standing beside me at a candlelight vigil telling reporters he hadn't heard his daughter's voice since the night she vanished.
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