Escaping Pink

Echo 3

**Ava's POV**

It was easy to tell that she'd been here a long time. It was in the way she acted. She tended to go on about some of the things she talked about. As if she wasn't sure you'd understand. I hadn't been here anywhere near as long as she had, so she probably did understand the rules here better than I did.

When I wasn't analyzing Candace, I was thinking about my life before I suspected my husband of cheating again. That was the worst part I think. He'd been having sex with this girl, a baby. For years. And for the most part, I didn't suspect a damn thing.

I'd known Carl since childhood. Everyone I knew steered clear of his father, because he looked scary. Including Carl and myself. One look at him and you're thinking, "Okay, there's someone locked in your basement."

Most humans go on with their life making assumptions about people based on appearances. And I don't just mean if they're pretty or ugly. We look at the way they talk. Their expressions. The way they use their hands, the way they walk. Hell, the way a person blinks could be judged.  I'm like that. So how could I have never looked at my husband and thought, "You look like a pedophile."

He'd lost his temper at times. Maybe he knocked into a lamp or threw a glass into the sink too hard. But it was a rare occurrence. But he left the house each and every time he got mad.

He came here.

I'd be crazy to still love him after I got out of this. After my bruises have finally faded and my ribs have healed (diagnosed by a fifteen year old that I have no choice but to trust), I'd be insane to go back to him. And he knows it. Avery Gonzalez is no push over.

People will look for me. It's been at least a week. There is no elaborate scheme he can knit together that will cover up my disappearance. My best friends know I've never cheated, so they'd never believe it if he says I ran off either. He looks guilty.

I swallowed hard. There were many flaws in my judgement right now. But I had to stay hopeful. I had to get out of here.

Movement in the corner of my eye made me glance to my right, where Candace was walking towards the bookcases. I wouldn't have paid much attention to this action, but she was walking funny. Really slowly, hardly picking up her feet.

"Candace?"

She kept moving, ignoring me. I grunted as I pulled myself into a half sitting position.

"Candace?"

Still ignoring me, she kept shuffling to the farthest bookcase and bent down to pick up something. She'd never ignored me before. She seemed so eager to help all the time, I'd say she was jumpy. When she straightened up, she held a small... something, in both hands. After bending it back and forth a few times, she balled it up in one fist and pressed it against her stomach.

"Candace?"

She flinched and looked up at me.

"What's that, in your hand," I asked.

She looked down at her fist and quickly tossed whatever it was back where she got it. Now I was really curious.

"What was that?"

She hesitated, looking in all directions as if she was saying something she shouldn't.

"I didn't- I don't remember picking it up." She said quickly.

I was wrong for what I was about to do. I didn't want to get her in trouble. But I was a nosey person, and I wanted to know what it was in her hand and why she was acting so funny about it. She acted as though she was in a trance when she picked it up, and claims to not remember doing any such thing.

"You can tell me Candace. You can trust me," I said softly, putting sincerity into my words. I wasn't exactly lying. She could trust me, and I wouldn't purposely hurt her. But a big part of me knew I was only saying so because I wanted to know what she had been thinking.

She exhaled slowly. "It was a sock," she said, sounding calm. But her hands twitched.

"Just a sock?" I pressed. I'd had a son. I still babysat frequently. I knew when a child was trying to hide something.

"No. It was my baby's sock," she sighed, and slowly made her way to the bed.

I was floored. She'd had a baby? Did she miscarry? When? Where was it? I closed my eyes tightly.

"What happened to it?"

"Him. Jax," she corrected me automatically. So she'd had the baby.

"Father wouldn't let me keep him. He said that a baby is too much work. He would've been too loud, someone would hear him," she finished abruptly, so I knew there was more.

"I would have known. If he was spending money on..." I started, but stopped. I'd never noticed that he was spending money on her, and this place. Maybe this was why he always paid for things in cash. He'd claimed he was old fashioned, and I'd believed him. Could I trust anything he'd told me over the years?

I cleared my throat. "What'd he do with him?"

"He said he left him on the doorstep of a local family's home," she sniffed. Looking at her, I could see she was trying hard not to cry.

"I'm sorry. My daughter, Amy, was taken away from me too. As well as a neice-"

I froze. My mind worked overtime to put together an idea. My sister, Charlotte, and her husband had lost a baby to SIDs. They'd miscarried once before her and twice after. Last year however, they'd found a newborn baby boy on their doorstep...

"When was your baby born?"

"Last year," she squeaked.

"But, his birthday. When's his birthday?"

"March 18th. Fa- he told me so."

My nephew could be her child. Oh my god.

~~~~~

I'm seeing Kate Beckinsale as Ava...