My Bestie's Dad Likes Me Wet-Chapter 99 GHOST MODE

NOVA POV

Petals Creek wasn’t even on most maps, it’s a town of less than 1,000 Population. 847 people in general and that’s including me.

One main street, Two churches and a diner that doubled as the town’s social hub. The kind of place where everyone knew everyone, which made it both the perfect place to hide and the most dangerous.

But I wasn’t Nova Hart anymore. Nova Hart died in that motel bathroom three states away.

I was Elizabeth Moore now. At least, that’s what my new driver’s license said as well as my new documents.

It had taken me two weeks of living out of my car, sleeping in Walmart parking lots, and eating gas station food to find the right person. Someone who dealt in fake IDs but wasn’t flashy about it. Someone who wouldn’t ask questions or remember my face.

I’d found him in a college town which is ironic, considering I’d just lost my own college career. He operated out of the back of a vape shop, charged me fifteen hundred dollars cash, and had my new identity ready in seventy-two hours.

Elizabeth Moore. Twenty-four years old, born in Nevada with no criminal record and outstanding warrants or a leaked sex tape. The perfect restart I needed.

The social security number was fake, but he’d assured me it would pass basic employment checks. Anything more thorough and I’d be screwed, but I wasn’t planning on applying for government jobs anyway.

I’d sold the G-wagon two days after leaving that motel. Found a sketchy used car lot that paid cash and didn’t ask too many questions about why a girl in her twenties was selling a luxury SUV for half its value. Walked away with thirty-two thousand dollars and drove off in a beat-up Honda Civic that had seen better days but would blend in anywhere.

The first thing I did with the money was find a storage unit in a random town and dump everything that screamed "Nova Hart." My textbooks, the designer bags Luca gave me, the jewelries and even my favorite books, especially the ones with my name written inside the covers.

It all went into that unit. I kept the key but knew I’d probably never go back for any of it.

Then I’d driven for days until I found Petals Creek, a town so small it didn’t even have a stoplight, a town where nobody would think to look for me.

The apartment I rented was above the hardware store on Main Street. Mrs. Albert, the landlord, was a tiny Irish woman in her seventies who spoke broken English and didn’t care about background checks. She just wanted first month, last month, and a security deposit. Cash only.

"You look tired," she’d said when I handed her the money. "You running from bad man?"

I’d frozen. "No. Just... looking for a fresh start."

She’d nodded like she understood. "Fresh start good. Room is small but clean. No noise after ten. No drugs. No men overnight."

"That won’t be a problem."

And it wouldn’t. The thought of letting any man touch me after everything with Grant made my stomach turn.

The apartment was basically a glorified studio. One room with a kitchenette in the corner, a bathroom the size of a closet, and a window that overlooked Main Street. The furniture was old but serviceable with a bed, a small table, two chairs, and a couch that had probably been there since the eighties.

But it was mine. Or Elizabeth’s. Whatever.

I’d unpacked what little I had. A duffel bag of clothes from Target, my toiletries and the Kindle I couldn’t bring myself to leave behind.

Finding work at Petals Creek was harder than I expected as it didn’t exactly have a booming job market. There was the diner, the hardware store, a small grocery, and a bar on the edge of town that looked like it catered to truckers and people who didn’t want to be seen.

I started at the diner. Mabel’s Place. The owner was a woman in her sixties with grey hair pulled back in a bun and eyes that had seen everything.

"Ever waited tables before?" She’d asked when I walked in asking for work.

"Some." A lie as I’d never really waited tables in my life. But how hard could it be?

"You got a social?"

I’d handed over my Elizabeth Moore’s fake social security card and she’d barely glanced at it. "You start tomorrow. Six a.m. Wear comfortable shoes and don’t expect tips to be great. Most folks around here are on fixed incomes."

"Thank you. I really appreciate—"

"Save it. You show up on time and work hard, we’ll get along fine. You flake on me and I’ll fire you before you can blink. Clear?"

"Clear."

That was four days ago. Now I was on my third shift, learning the rhythm of small-town life. Coffee refills every five minutes and regulars who sat in the same booth every day. Gossip that traveled faster than the internet.

And questions. So many questions.

"Were you from, honey?"

"Out west. Nevada."

"What brings you to Petals Creek?"

"Just needed a change of scenery."

"You got family around here?"

"No. Just me."

I kept my answers vague. Friendly but not too friendly, just enough to satisfy curiosity without giving away anything real.

The hardest part was remembering to answer to Elizabeth. Someone would call out "Elizabeth!" and I’d freeze for a second before realizing they meant me. I had to train myself. Respond to the new name. Sign it on paperwork. Introduce myself as Elizabeth Moore without hesitation.

Nova Hart couldn’t exist here. If she did, Grant would find me. Or worse, Lena would.

The morning sickness started on my fifth day in Petals Creek. I’d made it through the breakfast rush before I had to run to the bathroom and puke my guts out. Mabel had knocked on the door.

"You pregnant?"

I’d frozen, still kneeling on the bathroom floor. "What?"

"I asked if you’re pregnant. I’ve had five kids. I know morning sickness when I see it."

I’d considered lying. But what was the point? She’d figure it out eventually.

"Yes."

Silence. Then: "The father know?"

"No."

"He need to know?"

I’d stood up slowly, rinsed my mouth, and opened the door. Mabel stood there with her arms crossed, but her expression wasn’t judgmental, she had this elderly mature knowing look.

"No," I’d said firmly. "He doesn’t need to know."

She’d studied me for a long moment. "You in trouble?"

"Not anymore."

"Alright then. Take a five-minute break. Drink some ginger ale. Crackers are behind the counter. And Elizabeth?" She’d waited until I met her eyes. "Whatever you’re running from, you’re safe here. I don’t pry and I don’t gossip. Your business is your business."

I’d nodded, not trusting myself to speak without crying.

That night, alone in my apartment, I’d finally let myself think about the reality of my situation.

I was pregnant. With Grant Calloway’s baby.

I was living under a fake name in a town that didn’t exist on most maps.

I had maybe twenty-eight thousand dollars left to my name.

No degree. No future. No plan beyond surviving one day at a time.

And I was completely, utterly alone. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

I’d pulled out my old phone, not the one Grant gave me. I’d bought a burner phone the day after I left, paid for with cash at a gas station.

Part of me wanted to call him. Wanted to hear his voice. Wanted to tell him about the baby and let him fix everything like he always tried to do.

But I couldn’t. Because going back meant facing Lena. Facing the video. Facing everyone who’d seen me at my most vulnerable and judged me for it.

Going back meant losing what little control I had left over my own life.

So I didn’t call. Didn’t text. Didn’t reach out to anyone from my old life.

I just sat in that apartment above the hardware store, one hand on my still-flat stomach, and tried to figure out how Nova Hart had become Elizabeth Moore.

And how Elizabeth Moore was going to survive what came next.

Alone.