Ava never liked the sound of hospitals.
Too bright. Too white. Too quiet in a way that made everything louder. The soft beep of machines. The echo of shoes on tile. The shallow breaths of people pretending to be fine.
She hated all of it.
And yet here she was—sitting in a plastic chair outside Room 217, palms clammy, phone screen dimmed in her lap. She hadn't texted Eli. Not yet. Not until she knew what this was.
The nurse had looked at her with that practiced sympathy when she arrived, the kind that always came with bad news.
"You're listed as emergency contact," she'd said.
Ava had blinked. "Since when?"
But the nurse just tilted her head toward the hallway. "He's awake now, if you want to see him."
---
The room was smaller than she expected.
Neutral walls. One window. A tray of untouched food. And her father—looking like a stranger under pale lighting, with too many wires snaking from his arm and a bruise blooming across his cheek.
He looked up when she stepped in.
For a moment, neither of them said anything.
Ava folded her arms. "So… are you gonna explain why I just got a call from a hospital saying my dead father had a seizure in an abandoned building?"
His smile was weak. "It's good to see you too, sweetheart."
"Cut the crap."
He sighed, gesturing to the chair beside the bed. "You want to sit?"
"I want answers."
"Well," he said, leaning back, "then you're definitely my daughter."
---
The story didn't come all at once.
It came in jagged pieces. Like glass. Sharp and uneven.
He told her about the underground space she'd found. About the documents. About the hidden lab, the project they'd shut down years ago because someone higher up got scared. He never said exactly what it was—just that it had been dangerous enough to bury.
And he had helped bury it.
She stared at him, stunned. "So all this time, you were hiding some kind of illegal research?"
"It wasn't illegal then," he said. "It was experimental. It was promising. But it was… unstable."
"Jesus, Dad."
He looked older now. Like the weight of the past was finally crushing him.
"I thought I was protecting you."
"You were lying to me."
"I was trying to keep you safe."
She stood, pacing now, energy crackling in her limbs. "You let me think you were dead! For five years!"
"I didn't have a choice."
"You had every choice!"
His voice cracked. "If they knew I was alive, they'd come after you too."
That stopped her.
He let the silence settle before continuing. "The people involved… they're not just scientists. They're businessmen. Politicians. People who profit from silence. I couldn't risk it."
Ava sank into the chair, heart thudding like a war drum. "So what now?"
"I don't know."
"Great."
---
Outside, she finally texted Eli.
You were right. He's alive. We need to talk.
The reply came fast.
Where are you?
---
Eli showed up in less than twenty minutes. He didn't ask questions when she pulled him into a side corridor, away from nurses and fluorescent lights.
She didn't say anything at first. Just buried her face in his chest.He held her there, quietly.
Eventually, she mumbled, "I don't even know who I am anymore."
Eli rested his chin on her head. "You're Ava. You're the same person who nearly knocked me over with a backpack full of blueprints. You're the one who chased down a mystery with nothing but gut instinct and way too much caffeine. And you're the one who's still standing after all of this."
She let out a shaky laugh. "Barely."
"Still counts."
When she finally pulled back, her eyes were glassy, but steady. "He told me there are people who'd kill to keep this hidden."
Eli nodded. "Makes sense."
"I don't know who to trust anymore."
He cupped her face gently. "Then trust me."
She searched his eyes. "Why?"
"Because I'm not going anywhere."
And she believed him.
---
Back at her apartment, Ava sat curled on the couch while Eli ordered takeout—her usual, without asking.
She watched him move, the way he tried to act normal even though nothing about this was. And for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel alone in the mess.
"I found something else," she said, breaking the quiet.
He turned. "Yeah?"
She nodded. "In the storage box. It looked like a ledger. Codes, maybe. Names. I think it's connected to the project."
Eli's brow furrowed. "Where is it?"
"Still in my bag."
He reached for it, careful not to dump out the contents. When he pulled out the notebook, his fingers froze. "This symbol—" he pointed at the corner of the page, "—I've seen this before."
Ava leaned in. "Where?"
"In some of my dad's old military files. He never explained what it meant. Just said it wasn't for civilians."
"So this goes deeper than we thought."
He looked at her. "Ava, this might be bigger than just your dad. Or your family."
"I know."
They stared at the page together, the weight of it settling between them.
And for the first time, they both understood: the story they were unraveling wasn't just a secret.
It was a war.
And they had just chosen a side.
---
There was a moment—just before dawn—when everything felt suspended.
The city still slept. The streets were empty. No headlights. No sirens. Just the quiet hum of Ava's old radiator and the soft rustle of Eli flipping another page of the notebook she'd found.
Neither of them had spoken for a while.
Not because there was nothing to say.
But because there was too much.
---
"Okay," Eli muttered, tapping his pen against the margin of a code. "This sequence here—it keeps repeating. See? Page four, seven, nine… almost like coordinates."
Ava rubbed her eyes. "I've looked at that thing a dozen times and it just looked like gibberish."
"That's because it is gibberish—unless you know what to look for."
She raised an eyebrow. "And you do?"
He shrugged, modest. "Military dads. Weird hobbies. A lot of weekends decoding things I wasn't supposed to."
Ava leaned in, their knees brushing.
"Do you think this could lead us to… I don't know. Another lab? More files?"
Eli hesitated. "Could be. But Ava… if we follow this, we might be getting into something way above our heads."
She held his gaze. "We're already in it."
He looked at her like he wanted to argue—but didn't. Instead, he just nodded, tapping the notebook closed.
"All right. Then we go in with a plan. Not just adrenaline and caffeine this time."
"Speak for yourself. Caffeine is my plan."
---
They stayed up, tracing lines, marking entries. Eli started mapping it all out on her wall with sticky notes and red thread like something out of a detective show. Ava watched him, something warm curling in her chest despite the chaos.
He was focused, brows furrowed, sleeves pushed up. When he caught her staring, he smirked.
"What?"
She shook her head. "You're kind of hot when you go full nerd."
He laughed, brushing hair from his face. "You should've seen me in high school. Full braces. Debate team. I peaked early."
Ava tilted her head. "You've grown into it."
That made him pause.
His voice was quieter when he asked, "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
---
Later, when the thread finally made some kind of map and the wall looked more like obsession than strategy, they collapsed on the couch.
It was past 3 AM.
Their bodies pressed together—shoulders, thighs, elbows. It wasn't intentional. It just… happened.
"Do you ever think," Ava said slowly, "that maybe all of this started long before we found anything?"
He turned to her. "What do you mean?"
"I mean… us. You and me. Maybe we were always going to get tangled in something like this. Maybe we were already part of it without knowing."
Eli didn't speak right away.
But when he did, it wasn't what she expected.
"I think I always knew you'd ruin my life a little."
Ava blinked. "Wow. Romantic."
He laughed, soft and low. "No, I mean… you've always pulled me into things that felt bigger than me. Made me ask questions. Push back. You have this… gravity."
She looked at him. Really looked.
No jokes. No deflection.
Just honesty.
"You make me feel like I'm allowed to want more," he said. "Not just answers. But… everything."
The silence that followed wasn't awkward. It was thick with everything unsaid.
And maybe that was enough.
---
A few hours later, Ava woke to find herself curled into Eli's chest, her face tucked under his jaw. His heartbeat was steady. Comforting. Like an anchor in the middle of a storm.
She didn't want to move.
Didn't want to break the spell.
But her phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
She stared at it for a second before answering.
A distorted voice came through. Masked. Mechanical.
"You need to stop looking."
Her breath caught. "Who is this?"
"You're digging in places that were meant to stay buried."
"I think you have the wrong—"
"We know who you are, Ava. We know who he is, too."
She stood slowly, blood rushing to her ears. "If you're trying to scare me—"
"This isn't a threat. It's a warning."
And then the line went dead.
---
Eli was awake now. Watching her. Alert.
"Who was that?"
"I don't know."
He was already pulling on his jacket. "Then we need to move."
"To where?"
"Somewhere they can't follow."
Ava grabbed the notebook and her keys, heart pounding.
"What if they're already watching us?"
"Then we don't give them a pattern."
---
They drove.
No destination. No plan.
Just the need to breathe somewhere else.
Eventually they stopped at a gas station off the interstate. Eli leaned against the car while Ava paced.
"You think it's them?" she asked.
Eli nodded. "Has to be."
She folded her arms. "So what now?"
"We keep moving. We go off-grid for a while. Lay low, figure out what this thing is actually leading to."
Ava clenched her jaw. "I don't want to run."
"You're not running. You're regrouping."
"Feels like running."
Eli looked at her. "Then stay. And let them find you. Let them make the decisions for you."
Her silence was answer enough.
---
That night, they checked into a roadside motel.
One room. One bed.
It wasn't romantic. Not really.
But it was real.
Eli handed her a change of clothes from the trunk—an old hoodie, worn soft. Ava pulled it over her head and collapsed onto the bed, exhausted.
Eli sat beside her. "We'll figure this out. Whatever this thing is. Whatever your father was part of."
"I just… I thought I wanted answers. But now…"
"Now it feels like too much."
She nodded.
Eli lay back, staring at the ceiling. "You don't have to do this alone."
"I know."
He turned to her. "Do you believe me?"
"I do."
And she did.
More than she should.
---