Chapter 4 - AVA'S REBELLION
(Ava’s Perspective)
The house was too quiet. Grandma Linda’s mansion usually smelled like expensive perfume and fresh flowers, but tonight, it just smelled like bleach and lies.
I sat on the edge of the guest room bed, hugging my knees to my chest. Down the hall, in the lavish nursery Grandma had built months ago—a room that always creeped me out because it felt like she was planning for this—Eli was finally asleep in a crib.
My mom was in jail. The police hadn't listened to me. When I tried to tell the officers about the dryer, Grandma had pinched the back of my arm so hard it bruised, smiling through her tears as she told them I was "confused and traumatized."
I wasn't confused. I was furious.
I crept to the door and pressed my ear against the heavy oak. I could hear Grandma’s voice drifting up from the grand staircase. She was on the phone.
“...yes, the wire transfer went through,” Grandma was saying, her voice a hushed, triumphant whisper. “You did perfectly, Sarah. The police bought the whole hysterical mother routine. Just lay low for a few weeks. Do not use that burner phone again.”
My heart hammered against my ribs. Sarah. The fake nurse. Grandma was paying her off.
I needed proof. My mom always told me that in emergencies, I had to be smart, not just brave. I slipped out of the bedroom, my socks making zero noise on the plush carpet. I crept down the hallway, bypassing the nursery, and headed straight for Grandma’s home office.
The door was unlocked. Grandma was so arrogant she didn't even think she needed to hide her tracks from a thirteen-year-old. I slipped inside and turned on the small desk lamp. Her laptop was closed on the mahogany desk. I opened it. Password protected.
I bit my lip, thinking hard. Grandma was vain. What was her password? Her birth year? Her favorite dog? Then I remembered a time I helped her set up her iPad. She always used the same base word. Halcyon. The name of the estate she grew up on.
I typed Halcyon1! Incorrect.
I typed Halcyon2026! Incorrect.
I typed HalcyonEli1. The screen unlocked.
A chill ran down my spine. She had changed her password to include my baby brother’s name.
I quickly opened her email client and her iMessage app synced to her computer. My eyes scanned the recent messages. There it was. An unsaved number.
Sarah: The footage is edited. The blanket and sound machine are cut out. Sending the clean file now.
Grandma: Excellent. Remember, if the police dig into your FPS badge, you stick to the story that you are an independent contractor. Here is the confirmation for the offshore transfer.
I didn't hesitate. I pulled my own phone from my pocket—the one Grandma thought she had confiscated, but I had handed her an old broken iPhone instead—and started taking clear, high-resolution photos of the screen. I captured the emails, the bank transfer receipts, and the text messages.
Suddenly, a shadow fell across the crack of the office door. Heavy footsteps were walking up the stairs.
“Ava, darling?” Grandma’s sickeningly sweet voice called out. “Are you awake? I brought you some warm milk.”
Panic seized my throat. I silently closed the laptop, clicked the desk lamp off, and dove under the heavy mahogany desk just as the office door swung open.
Through the gap between the floor and the desk, I saw her expensive slippers. She stood perfectly still in the dark office.
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“I know you’re in here, little mouse,” she whispered. The sweetness was gone, replaced by a venomous hiss. “If you’re touching my things, you’re going to find out exactly what happens to disobedient children.”
I held my breath, clamping both hands over my mouth. I prayed to God my phone wouldn't light up.
