Novels by Ava Cole

CAMILLEI found the second photograph by accident, the same way I'd found the first one,tucked into a book, this time one of Brian's old picture books I was clearing off his shelf to make room for ones he'd actually outgrown into.It slipped free and landed face-up on the carpet before I could catch it.Brian, younger, maybe two, sitting on a woman's lap on a porch somewhere I didn't recognize. This time her face wasn't turned away from the camera, wasn't softened by distance or bad lighting. I could see her clearly…..dark hair, the same features I remembered from the first photograph, a smile aimed directly at whoever was holding the camera."That's a good one," Brian said, appearing at my elbow the way he always did whenever I was looking at something I probably shouldn't be."Do you know who this is?""Aunt Victoria." He said it easily, without any particular weight behind it, the way children say names they've heard often enough to stop questioning. "She used to live here. Before.

CAMILLEI woke up with a blanket over my shoulders I hadn't put there myself.For a second I didn't move, just lay there in the chair beside Brian's bed, piecing together the last thing I remembered….his nightmare, the promise to stay, the book going heavy in my lap sometime after midnight. I didn't remember the blanket.I found Zack in the kitchen a while later, and something in the easy way he glanced up when I walked in told me exactly who'd put it there, even though neither of us said so out loud."You stayed nearby," I said, mostly to see what he'd do with it."I had paperwork." He didn't look up from his coffee. "The study's on the way to the kitchen.""The study is nowhere near the kitchen.""Isn't it?" A small, almost-smile, gone as fast as it appeared.I let it go. Some things felt better left exactly where he'd set them down,unexplained, deniable, mine to keep without needing to examine too closely.Breakfast that morning felt different than it usually did, though I couldn't

ZACKShe stayed.I told myself that was the end of it, she stayed, the matter was settled, I could go back to behaving like a man who hadn't said something he couldn't take back. It didn't work that way. The days since had carried a particular awkwardness between us, the kind that comes from two people who both know exactly what was said and have silently agreed not to mention it again.I noticed her noticing me more. I noticed myself doing the same, in moments that shouldn't have warranted noticing at all… the back of her neck while she bent over Brian's homework, the specific sound of her laugh through a closed door, the way she said my name when she didn't realize I was in earshot.Everything had started to feel closer than it used to.I'd started a sentence at breakfast that morning,something about how she looked that night in the hallway, half-formed and already more than I meant to say… and caught myself halfway through, redirecting into a question about Brian's schedule for the

ZACKI found my mother in the drawing room, exactly where I expected her to be after the scene in the hallway yesterday."We need to talk about Camille.""I was wondering how long that would take you." She didn't look up from whatever she was reading, which told me she'd already prepared for this conversation and intended to control it. "I assume you're here to defend her.""I'm here because you accused her of something she didn't do, threatened to dismiss her, and I want to understand why you can't simply let this go.""I'm protecting this family.""From what, exactly? A woman who does her job well and has never once asked either of us for anything?""From the version of events you haven't let yourself see yet." She finally set the book down, her expression settling into something harder and more deliberate. "Zachary. Girls like her don't simply appear in houses like this one by accident. They find their way in. And by the time families like ours notice what's happened, it's already

CAMILLEMrs. Smith found me in the linen closet the morning after the Hendersons' gathering, which told me immediately this wasn't going to be about towels."A word, Camille."I set down the stack I was holding. "Of course, ma'am."She shut the door behind her, which she'd never bothered doing before, and something about the quiet click of it settling into place made my stomach tighten before she said a single thing."I saw you last night. On my son's arm, practically, in front of half the people who matter in this city." Her voice stayed level, almost pleasant, which somehow made it worse. "I'd like to believe you understand the difference between kindness and invitation.""I don't know what you mean.""I think you understand precisely what I mean." She studied me the way she might study a stain she was deciding whether to bother removing. "Zachary is a generous man. Generous to a fault, at times, which is exactly how women like you find your way into houses like this one. I'd hate

ZACKThe Hendersons' annual gathering was the kind of event I usually treated as a line item…. appear, shake the right hands, leave before the second round of drinks turns the conversation sloppy. I hadn't given it a second thought until I realized, going over the guest list that morning, that Brian would need to be there, which meant Camille would too.I noticed how much that changed my mood about the evening. I didn't examine it closely.She came down just before we left, in a dress that was clearly borrowed or rented…. something that didn't quite fit the room she was about to walk into, though she wore it like she was daring anyone to say so. Brian held her hand the whole way to the car, chattering about something irrelevant, and she answered him with real attention, the kind most adults in that house had long since stopped giving him."You look uncomfortable already," I said, once we were in the car."I am uncomfortable already.""You'll be fine.""Easy for you to say. You own ha