CHAPTER 12 — THE CAFé TRAP （SETUP）
Stella called the next morning.
Not from her number.
From a private line.
Like she knew Ethan had blocked her.
Like she knew I wouldn’t.
I let it ring twice.
Then I answered.
“Ava,” she said, voice sweet enough to rot. “We should talk.”
“No,” I said simply.
Stella exhaled, a tiny laugh.
“You can’t win this online,” she said. “People love a victim.”
“I’m not playing online,” I replied.
Silence.
Then Stella’s tone shifted—business.
“I’ll make it stop,” she said. “Meet me.”
She named a café in Tribeca.
Public. Upscale. Cameras everywhere.
A place that would look good in a story.
I didn’t agree.
Not yet.
“Why,” I asked, “would I ever meet you alone?”
Stella sighed, like I was exhausting.
“Because you’re smart,” she said. “And because you don’t want your name attached to this.”
I looked at Ethan’s office door, closed behind me in our apartment now, his voice low on the phone with counsel.
I made a decision with my hands, not my heart.
I opened my laptop.
I searched the café.
I found its phone number.
I emailed them from my work email and requested confirmation they had CCTV and how long they retained footage.
Then I forwarded the email thread to Daniel.
A paper trail.
When Stella spoke again, I said, “I’ll meet you.”
Her relief came too fast.
“Good,” she said. “Just you.”
“No,” I replied. “Me. In public.”
Stella laughed, as if she’d won something.
“Of course,” she said.
After I hung up, I texted Ethan:
Meeting Stella tomorrow. Public place. Lawyer aware. Don’t intervene unless I text ‘NOW.’
He called immediately.
“Ava—”
“I’m not going to be alone in a private room,” I said. “And I’m not walking in without a plan.”
His silence held for one beat.
Then he exhaled.
“Fine,” he said tightly. “But I’m nearby.”
“That’s not the plan,” I said.
“I am,” he replied.
I closed my eyes.
Sometimes love is protection.
Sometimes it’s stubbornness disguised as devotion.
“Okay,” I said. “Nearby.”
Then I opened my phone and changed one setting.
Voice Memos.
Mic access.
Battery.
Storage.
I tested a recording.
The file saved.
The timestamp was clean.
If Stella wanted a performance, I would give her one.
But mine would come with metadata.