#Chapter 64: Missing Minutes

Emily I was really getting tired of finding unexpected mail waiting for me in the morning. The envelope didn’t belong there. It was too plain: cream-colored, thick like parchment, with no name on the front. Just a single seal pressed into the back flap: the Blackwood Pack crest. My birth Pack. I stared at it on the floor just inside my office door, where it must have been slipped under sometime before I’d arrived. The was no sign of who left it. A familiar chill crept up my spine. I closed the door behind me before crouching low to pick it up. The moment I turned it over in my hands, I knew. This wasn’t from a stranger. This was from someone who knew exactly what they were doing, and who knew how easily this could fall into the wrong hands. I sat at my desk, fingers trembling as I broke the seal. Inside was a bundle of documents. A set of aging land transfer records, old Pack meeting minutes annotated in a hand I recognized: my mother’s. And tucked behind them al