Chapter 2

The line went dead. Lily had hung up without waiting for a response she knew Ava couldn't give.

Ava slowly lowered the phone, the cheap plastic cool against her skin. Lily' s words echoed in the silent bathroom, each one a familiar jab. Divorce him and disappear. It was what Ava wanted more than anything, but she couldn't. Not yet.

The next morning, Ethan was in a foul mood. He sat at the breakfast table, staring at Ava with narrowed, suspicious eyes. The warmth from his call with Vivienne was gone, replaced by a cold scrutiny.

"Lily called you last night," he stated. It wasn't a question.

Ava met his gaze and gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod.

"What did she say to you?" he demanded, his voice sharp. "Did she tell you to leave? Is that why you were acting so strange?"

Ava picked up a pen and a small notepad she always carried. She wrote quickly, her handwriting neat and detached. She was just worried about Vivienne.

Ethan snatched the notepad from her hand, his eyes scanning the words. A humorless laugh escaped his lips. "Worried? Or telling you to get out of the way?" He leaned forward, his presence overwhelming in the quiet room. "Don't think I don't know what you're up to, A.N. You're playing the victim, trying to make me feel guilty."

Ava didn't respond. There was no point. He would believe what he wanted to believe. She simply stared back at him, her expression placid. This infuriated him more than any argument could.

"Fine. Be silent," he spat, throwing the notepad back onto the table. "Just remember your place."

He stood up abruptly, knocking his chair back. "I'm seeing Vivienne for lunch. Don't wait for me." He left without another glance in her direction.

As soon as the front door slammed shut, Ava let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. She looked at her locket. 29 days remaining.

A small, electronic chime sounded in her mind, a notification from the Muse System.

`[System Alert: Anomaly detected in user' s emotional state. Stability is crucial for mission completion. Please regulate.]`

Ava closed her eyes. I'm fine, she thought, directing the message to the System. I'm just planning for the future.

She spent the rest of the day making quiet preparations. She packed a small bag with her few personal belongings-a change of clothes, her sketchbook filled with her own original designs, and a small, worn photograph of her and Lily from before the illness, before the System.

The house phone rang later that afternoon. It was her mother.

"Ava? Is that you?" Her mother' s voice was strained. "Your grandmother is not feeling well. She wants to see everyone. We're having a family dinner tonight. You need to come." The tone was not an invitation, it was a command.

Ava knew what this meant. Her grandmother, the matriarch of the family, had never approved of her. Since Ava had "married" Ethan, a man from a much higher social standing, the family had treated her like an outcast, a source of shame who had somehow tricked her way into a life she didn't deserve.

They resented her for it, especially since she brought them no tangible benefits. Ethan despised them and made no secret of it.

"And don't even think about bringing Ethan," her mother added, her voice dripping with scorn. "We all know he wouldn't be caught dead with us."

That evening, Ava took a taxi to her family' s home. The moment she stepped inside, the atmosphere was suffocating. Her mother, her father, and her grandmother were all there, their faces grim. Lily was conspicuously absent.

"There she is," her grandmother said, her voice raspy with age and malice. She pointed a trembling finger at Ava. "The mute disgrace. Still clinging to that man like a leech."

Ava's father stepped forward. "Your grandmother is sick because of you! All the stress you cause this family, running around with a man who thinks you're dirt beneath his shoes. You bring us nothing but shame!"

He grabbed her arm, his fingers digging into her skin. "Why can't you be more like Lily? She's the one who truly cares for this family."

Ava flinched from the pain but remained silent. She looked at her mother, a silent plea in her eyes. Her mother just looked away, her face a mask of cold indifference.

The verbal assault continued, a barrage of insults and accusations. Ava just stood there, taking it all in. This was her family. The people she had sacrificed everything for.

Her grandmother, fueled by a sudden rage, stood up and shoved her hard. "Get out! We don't want you here!"

The push was unexpectedly strong. Ava lost her balance and tumbled backward, her head hitting the sharp corner of a side table. A flash of white-hot pain exploded behind her eyes, and then, darkness.

She woke up in a hospital room. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, and the air smelled of antiseptic. A throbbing ache radiated from the back of her head.

Her family was there, standing by the door, talking to a doctor.

"It's just a minor concussion," the doctor was saying. "She'll need to rest for a day or two."

"A concussion? She's just faking it for attention," her mother said dismissively. "She's always been dramatic."

"Is she going to die?" her grandmother asked, a strange, hopeful lilt in her voice.

The doctor looked at them, his expression one of disbelief.

Ava closed her eyes again, a single, cold tear tracing a path down her temple. She had always yearned for their love, a simple word of kindness, a gentle touch. But all she ever received was cruelty. She had saved Lily's life, and in return, her family had cast her aside.

A man entered the room. He was tall, with kind eyes and a gentle demeanor. It was Dr. Alex Carter, a renowned plastic surgeon who sometimes consulted at this hospital. He was also an old acquaintance from her university days, one of the few people who knew about her artistic talent before she became "A.N." He looked at her chart, then at her family, and his brow furrowed with concern.

He walked over to her bed. "Ava?" he said softly.

Her family stiffened. Her mother shot him a sharp look. "She is Mrs. Blackwood. You should show some respect."

Alex ignored her. He looked at Ava's pale face, the bruise forming on her temple. "What happened?"

Before Ava could even reach for her notepad, her father spoke up. "She's clumsy. Always has been. Tripped and fell."

Alex' s gaze lingered on Ava for a moment longer, a look of profound pity in his eyes. He knew them. He knew this wasn't the whole story. He had heard the whispers about her marriage, a union that was more of a prison. It was a well-known fact in their circle that Ethan Blackwood had married the mute artist A.N. not for love, but because of some strange, binding agreement that no one fully understood.