Page 53 of The Weight of Her Silence
And the kids were… different.
Ava didn’t look at him the same. Not with the guarded warmth she used to carry. Her eyes were sharp now, too quiet. Too knowing. Caleb barely spoke to him at all, except when he had to. And even then, it came clipped and formal, like a stranger.
He told himself it was the cancer. The grief. Kids don’t process pain well.
But deep down, something twisted in his gut. Ava had been watching him.
On Thursday night, Nate found himself pacing in his home office, the door half-cracked open. Camille had texted twice—short, irritated messages.You’ve vanished. What’shappening? I’m not a secret you can shelve when things get hard.
He didn’t answer.
He couldn’t afford to.
It was all coming apart. And yet he couldn’t stop himself from rereading her texts over and over, like a man craving the flame even as it scorches.
He was still staring at his screen when the sound of a soft thud pulled his attention.
He turned sharply—just in time to see the hallway shadows shift.
Footsteps. Light. Fading.
Nate stood slowly, creeping toward the door. He stepped into the hall.
Empty.
???
The next morning, Ava didn’t meet his eyes at breakfast. She didn’t speak when he said good morning. And when she stood to clear her plate, she left behind something on the table. A piece of folded paper.
Nate frowned. “Ava, you forgot—”
“I didn’t forget,” she said without turning back.
He picked it up slowly, something prickling across his skin.
It was a printout. Of a hotel reservation. His name. Camille’s initials. A single night, weeks ago.
His heart stopped.
His mind scrambled for an explanation, but it wouldn’t come.
On the back of the paper, in Ava’s neat, controlled handwriting, it read:You’re not who you pretend to be.
And in that moment, Nate realized,they knew.
Not just suspected.
They knew.
He gripped the edge of the counter, the paper trembling in his hand. His throat was dry, his chest constricting.
Down the hall, Caleb's door slammed. He had lost them.
Not just Lila—but Ava and Caleb, too. And he wasn't even sure if he deserved to get them back. Nate didn’t expect her to come to him.
After the paper on the table, the stiff silence, the storm behind her eyes—he expected avoidance. Maybe anger from Caleb. But not Ava, standing now in the doorway of his office like a mirror he didn’t want to face.
“I need to talk to you,” she said, voice flat.
