I woke with a singular focus: I needed answers. I turned to Grandma, asking her to dig into the attack—into the wolf who’d come after Claire and Lily, into the account that’d hired him. She didn’t hesitate.
By midday, her team confirmed what I’d suspected: the account used to contact the wolf was mine, but it had been hacked that day. Login records placed me miles away, at a clinic for Ellie’s old medical files, giving me an airtight alibi.
Benedict had dug into Claire, too, but found nothing—no transaction trails, no prior links to the wolf, no secret meetings.
If Grandma’s network, which could sniff out a whisper in a crowded pack square, turned up empty? There was nothing to find.
The evidence would clear me in front of Alpha Sean, prove I hadn’t orchestrated the attack. But it woul
