<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">"Bye, Wes.” Her tone was apathetic, dull as her tolerance for his annoying charm was thin. And yet, she derived a considerable amount of joy in his fuss. Ava turned, ignoring the Hunter’s protests for the hour she chose. His sarcastic remarks hit her back, and like a brick wall she was unphased as she turned to make her way toward the cottage, a smile on her lips. In the distance she could see the porch light, a thin swarm of moths and gnats frenzying around the warmth. She slipped the key in the slot of the knob and unlocked the door, greeted by refreshing, cool air. Inside it felt as though she could breath easier, the solitude of the cozy space a much needed respite. Flicking on the light by the door, a gentle glow from above lit the room. The decor was dated; bold, floral wallpaper invasive to every room and the furniture, though maintained, was worn. Still the bed called to her, turned down sheets and blankets an welcoming invitation to rest her weary head. Ava sat down on the mattress, letting the fatigue settle into her muscles and bones finally, using the last vestiges of her strength to unlace her boots and wiggle out of her black jeans. <br/>
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Tucking herself in, she reached for the bedside lamp, tugging at the beaded string to click that light off. Ava let herself drift to sleep, something usually made more difficult by the fear of what might come in her dreams, but her exhaustion made it impossible not to succumb to embrace of warm blankets or the cradle of cotton beneath her head. She was asleep faster than she knew, time passing quickly into morning. Golden light was on the horizon, hanging lazily in the sky. Darkness had not transitioned away fully, a blue hue still lingering outside her window. The natural rhythm of her sleep cycle did not allow her to wait for the sun to shine through the crack in her curtains, or gently wake her with birdsong. She awakened easily enough without it, restfully wrapped in a mess of bed linens. Her long, dark hair was tousled from her tossing and turning, somehow a lovely state of disarray despite having been untouched by a brush. <br/>
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She reached for her bag, reaching inside it for the little pocket that held her phone. Green eyes squinted at the screen, the glow harsh on her for a moment as she checked for messages. There was no test from Scarlett, no urgent call to save her from some terrible mistake she’d made or rescue her from some strange place. It made getting answers all the more imperative. <br/>
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Pushing herself up, she made her way to the bathroom. While the water ran in the shower to get to temperature, she brushed her teeth and wiped the sleep from her eyes. After bathing, she dried her hair and <b><a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fi.imgur.com%2FXeUvOsf.jpg&amp;hash=8b83b5c5fd22a7e075e6c77793e43a78" href="https://i.imgur.com/XeUvOsf.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">dressed</a></b>, changing into something that didn't appear as though she were out all night hunting against the wishes of her parents. Like Scarlett would, she planned to show up to breakfast as though she had been home all along, leaving nothing to suspect. <br/>
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By the time she left the little cottage it was a few minutes till six. Though Ava did not expect the Hunter to be early she did expect him to show at some point. So, she waited at the bridge, letting the minutes pass by. Five minutes past the hour and she was already getting impatient. The brunette began to pace ten more minutes later, her feet thudding against the planks of the bridge as she moved back and forth, her temper flaring with every second that passed. Ava worried that the Hunter might have left in the dead of night, decided that he would rather not work alongside her to find her sister. The mere thought had her quickly traversing the grounds of the bed and breakfast, moving to the front of the property where the restaurant was. But there, in the parking lot, was the old, black truck, still sitting in the same spot he left it. The sight of it did douse the flames of her anger, but he was late nonetheless. <br/>
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She ran a hand through her dark brown locks, the soft waves laying mostly to one side as let the irritation subside. Over her shoulder she peered into the restaurant, savory scents tempting her as much as the need for caffeine. A small internal debate ensued and options were weighed before she decided that she would go inside. The restaurant was quiet, but there were more customers than there were the evening before. Staff were bustling about, smiling but frayed. Ava moved to the bar height counter where two young women cheerily served their guests. She waited patiently to be noticed, occasionally peering through the large windows toward the black truck in case Wes did decide to make a quick getaway. <br/>
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“Can I help you ma’am?” The blonde waitress asked.<br/>
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“Oh, I just wanted to check out. I was in the Blue Cottage.” Ava mentioned, sliding her key against the surface. <br/>
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“Of course. Just give me a few moments. It’s been a little hectic this morning. We got in and the place was wide open. Nothing was taken or anything, thank goodness, but the waitress that was supposed to close up last night didn’t lock up. And, no one has heard from her. She’s only worked here for three weeks, though. Not unusual for people to throw their hands up and quit, you know?” She explained, thumbing through the open book to find her reservation and close out the transaction on her card. “It looks like you’ve got another room under your name. Would you like to check-out for that location as well?”<br/>
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“Not just yet, actually. I need to get the key.” Ava said, brought out of her thoughts when questioned by the girl. She was thinking about the woman who had been there the night before, the considerate waitress who served them. She didn’t seem like the flighty type, but it was her hope that all was well. <br/>
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“Sure thing. If you’d like to help yourself to the coffee bar you can.” She smiled, handing her a receipt. <br/>
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Ava did just that, poured two cups and doctored up her own with cream and sugar. She left the restaurant and made her way back down the path, to the cottage across from hers where the Hunter likely still slept. She moved up the few steps that led to the porch, setting one of the cups down on the little table between the two chairs just to the side. Lifting her fist, she pounded against the door hard, continuous knocks relentlessly shaking the frame. “Wes! It’s six-thirty!”</span>