Dawn broke pale and brittle over the manor.
By the time the first light touched the courtyard, crates of records were already being carried into the assembly hall—ledgers, guard logs, sealed correspondence. The review team set up long tables and stacks of blank affidavits, their breath fogging in the cold air.
Clara stood near the back, cloak wrapped loose, watching the work begin.
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The first blow landed within an hour.
A payment from Jolene's private account to a camp instructor—three winters ago, marked as “training enhancement." The handwriting on the ledger matched her signature exactly.
A second blow followed: guard rotation logs cross-referenced with the “forgotten" east fence repair. Same gap every week. Same days Jolene hosted events that kept the Alpha's sons away from pa
