Lenny

    I leaned back in Ramsey''s office chair, surrounded by stacks of printouts,ptop screens, and coffee cups that marked my sleepless night of investigation.

    When Ramsey had texted me in the middle of his dinner with the Hollow Kin yesterday, practically begging me to find out everything I could about Delia Pier, I knew it was serious.

    In his words, "If L is worried about it, then there''s something."

    My phone buzzed with an iing call from Ramsey.

    "Hey…" I yawned.

    "Please tell me you found something," Ramsey''s voice came through, tense with worry.

    "Yeah, I did. Didn''t you get my text? I sent you a PDF summarising my findings."

    "A PDF?" I heard him sigh, "You know how things have been hectic these days, Lenny. I''m not sure…"

    "This is exactly why I never bother to give you a report in writing," I sighed. "Because you''ll never read it. I don''t know how you made it this far without signing away our pack, but you''re theziest person I''ve ever met."

    "Try sharing the same room with a pregnant woman, Lenny. Half the time, I don''t know where my phone is. If L sees me sitting around reading, she''d assume I don''t like her. In her words, we made the baby together, so we are in his journey together."

    I wanted to tell Ramsey that I''ve been a dad five times now and have had my share of sleepless nights, diaper changes, and that it never gets easy, but I decided to save him the details. He would have to discover them on his own.

    "Anyway, I found plenty," I said, shuffling through my notes. "I''m going to walk you through everything right now."

    "I''m listening."

    "Delia Piers, born twenty-five years ago to a single mother named Margaret Pier, who worked as a hairdresser at a small salon in downtown Millbrook. No father listed on the birth certificate, and I meanpletely nk—not even ''father unknown.''"

    "That''s unusual."

    "Gets more unusual. From what I could gather from school records and social services files, Delia was bullied relentlessly throughout high school. We''re talking about the kind of harassment that would break most people. Kids calling her ''freak,'' pushing her around, destroying her belongings."

    "Why was she targeted?"

    "Hard to say definitively, but several witness ounts mention she was ''different'' and ''creepy.'' One former ssmate I tracked down said she always seemed to know things she shouldn''t; like when someone was going to get in trouble before it happened, or when someone was lying."

    Ramsey was quiet for a moment. "Sounds like she might have had some kind of sensitivity."

    "That''s what I was thinking. Anyway, she dropped out when she was sixteen after her mother got diagnosed withte-stage cancer. For three years, this girl was hustling between six different jobs at the same time—gas stations, diners, cleaning services, you name it."

    "Six jobs?"

    "And here''s the kicker: most of the time, she wasn''t paid what she was promised, or employers would let her go right before payday. I found records of at least twelve different establishments where she worked for weeks and never received fullpensation."

    "That''s exploitation," Ramsey huffed. "These humans are worse than they look. Imagine maltreating a 19-year-old."

    "Don''t go there, Ramsey," I rolled my eyes. "We do worse than these humans. Judging them would be a case of ''a kettle calling a pot ck."

    "Whatever," he sighed. "Go on!"

    "Here''s where it gets exciting." I flipped to the police report that had taken me three hours to dig up. "When she was neen, she filed a rapeint against three local boys—Tommy Hendricks, Steve Mueller, and Jordan Cross."

    "What happened with the case?"

    "ording to her statement, the boys cornered her after her shift at some arcade, beat her up, and assaulted her. But get this, she imed that afterwards, a pack of huge dogs appeared and attacked all three boys."

    "Dogs?"

    "Seven of them, ording to her report. She described them as ''the biggest dogs I''ve ever seen, with strange eyes that seemed to glow.'' The boys were found severely mauled, all three of them hospitalised with injuries that animal control couldn''t exin."

    I could hear Ramsey''s sharp intake of breath. "What did the police do?"

    "Absolutely nothing. The boys'' parents were all from wealthy and influential families in the area. They swept the whole thing under the carpet, imed the girl was traumatised and making up stories to cover for her mental breakdown."

    "And Delia?"

    "She camped out in front of the police station every single day for two months, protesting theck of investigation. She had signs, she gave interviews to local reporters, she made scenes in buses, public spaces and whatever she could find, demanding justice."

    "Did anyone listen?"

    "Not a soul. Eventually, she just... disappeared. Completely vanished from all records for almost two years."

    "Where did she go?"

    "That''s the million-dor question. No employment records, no address changes, except she moved from Millbrook to Whispering Pine yearster. There are no medical visits, no financial activity. It''s like she ceased to exist."

    "Until?"

    "Until she resurfaced four yearster with a PhD in Folklore and Mythology from Greystone University, a Master''s degree in Anthropology from Pinnacle, and professional certifications in archaeological research and historical preservation."

    "Greystone and Pinnacle Universities?" Ramsey asked with surprise in his voice, "Aren''t those like costly private universities, and for the top 1% in the human world. I know a lot of our kind go there too because of how exclusive and private they are."

    "That''s the one," I nodded.

    Ramsey was silent for so long I thought the call had dropped. "Lenny, are you telling me that a broke neen-year-old with a high school dropout record somehow acquired advanced degrees from two of the human world''s most prestigious universities in under four years?"

    "That''s exactly what I''m telling you. And not just any degrees; advanced programs that normally take four to six years,pleted simultaneously with perfect academic records."

    "That''s impossible without help. Serious help."

    "The kind of help thates with a very high price tag," I agreed. "Someone with significant resources invested heavily in Delia Piers'' education and transformation."

    "Did you find any connection to supernatural organisations? Covens, packs, anything?"

    "Nothing direct, but there are some interesting patterns. Several of her research papers focus specifically on werewolf folklore, particrly legends about supernatural creatures that can blend into human society undetected."

    "She''s been studying us."

    "For years. And Ramsey? Those three boys who were attacked? They all died in separate ''idents'' within six months of her return. Car crash, hunting ident, and a freak drowning incident. That''s not all. Upon their death, she came on Ctok in a now-deleted video. And said those boys got their karma."

    "But was she active before their death?" Ramsey asked.

    "Yes. As soon as she resurfaced online, she started Ctok and went viral for making videos about werewolf legends, human-hunter contact myths, vampires, witches, and fae. Most of her videos were dismissed as fantasy or performance art until that video two days ago. She''s been on the number trending list, and people are digging her old videos talking about her experience with werewolves. I heard she''s even saying Greystone and Pinnacle are affiliated with us."

    "Fuck!" I heard Ramsey sigh, muttering curses under his breath

    Before he could respond, there was a soft knock on the office door. I nced up to see Cassidy''s silhouette through the frosted ss.

    "I need to call you back," I said quickly, ending the call before Ramsey could protest.

    "Come in," I called out, hastily shoving the most sensitive documents into the drawer and adjusting my clothes.

    Cassidy entered with her usual graceful stride, carrying a folder and wearing a simple blue dress that somehow made her look both professional and... I forced myself to focus on her face instead of noticing how the colour brought out the beauty of her eyes.

    "I''m sorry to bother you, Lenny," she said, approaching the desk with that warm smile that had been making me act like a dummy whenever I''m around her. "I need a signature for travel clearance."

    I cleared my throat, trying to sound moreposed than I felt. "Travel clearance? Where are you nning to go?"

    "My cousin''s wedding in Woodstone Pack. It''s this weekend, and I know I should have requested permission earlier, but..." She trailed off, looking slightly embarrassed. "I''ve been hoping the travel restrictions would be lifted by now."

    Right. The travel restrictions. Since the incident with the Dark One, Ramsey had kept Cassidy''s entire family (Her parents were still in jail, though) under close supervision, and she couldn''t leave the White Mountain region without explicit permission from him.

    "I wish I could help," I said, genuinely regretful. The disappointment that flickered across her face made my chest tighten. "But I don''t have the jurisdiction to authorise travel outside our territory. That has toe directly from Ramsey."

    "Oh." Her shoulders sagged slightly. "I understand. I should have known better than to ask."

    "No, it''s not that," I said quickly, standing up from the desk. "It''s just the protocols are very specific about who can grant those permissions, and—"

    I realised I was rambling and forced myself to stop. Cassidy was looking at me with a mixture of confusion and amusement that made me feel like a teenager asking someone to prom.

    "It''s okay, Lenny," she said gently. "I know you''d help if you could. You always do."