Page 15 of Wolf's Fate
Which was exactly what I was afraid of.
I entered the town hall with Lorna on one side, Lily on the other, and Noel reluctantly bringing up the rear to stop me from bolting, I guessed. I could have been unfair, and he maybe as genuinely invested in this meeting as his wife, but he didn’t give me those vibes. Again, I could’ve been projecting my inner surliness unfairly towards him.
The town hall was buzzing with low conversation, and I genuinely was dumbfounded about how many people were there. Chairs scraped over wooden floors as people took their seats, and I tried to dig my heels in as Lorna marched us to the front. I felt Lily’s grip on my arm and wasn’t sure if she was trying to hold me back or just hold on.
I knew our town wasn’t a big one, and when a meeting was called, most people turned up…but I hadn’t expected it for me. I started to shake with nerves, and I felt Lily’s grip tighten. I could feel their eyes on me as Lorna walked us down past the rows, and I wondered if this was what a bride felt. The weight of everyone’s stares, being assessed and judged as she passed.
Get a grip. A bride wants to be here!
I needed to listen to myself. I started to take deep breaths, hoping to calm and center myself. I couldn’t afford to freak out. Not when I needed to be evasive.
Sheriff Lincoln was at the front, off to the side, talking to Lily’s father, and I turned to her in accusation and was met with a look of attitude.
“What did you expect me to do?” she hissed from beside me. “Sayno, Dad, of course I don’t want to feel safe in my town?”
“This is a disaster,” I grumbled as I was finally led to a seat that Lorna deemed acceptable. I kept my eyes on the sheriff, and when he caught my eye, he gave a nod of recognition. Also something I didn’t need, to be on his radar.
His eyes swept the room, and he must have liked what he saw, as he made his way to the front.
“Alright, we should start,” he announced, his hand raised to quiet the conversations around us. “Some of you may know, but for those of you who don’t, the recent spate of home break-ins has escalated, and yesterday evening, Canvas & Craft Collective was broken into and severely vandalized.” He gestured to me. “Willow’s home was also broken into, and substantial damage was inflicted on her property.” The gasps rose into a rumble of murmurings. “Now, I know there’s been some speculation, and I know that some of you are scared, but I assure you, we are looking into this and doing everything we can.”
The murmurs grew louder, and I heard people shifting uncomfortably in their seats.
I’d been more focused on the term “spate.” There had been more than one break-in? This had happened to others? Why was this the first time I heard about it? My heart raced, the sheriff’s voice fading into the background as the weight of that word settled in. Had they all been done by shifters?
I glanced around the room, my eyes scanning the familiar faces. How many of them had been affected? How many had been keeping quiet? And more importantly—why?
I felt a knot form in my stomach. Whatever was going on, maybe it wasn’t just about me, and that made me feel worse. Had the shifters who broke into my home known what was happening in town and used that as a way to get into my house?
That didn’t make sense. Why would they need the subterfuge?
Mrs. Lippe, who always seemed to be front and center at these things, raised her hand, not waiting for the sheriff to openthe floor for questions. She also didn’t wait to be called on. “We deserve to know what’s going on,” she said. Her voice always made me think of what a hummingbird would sound like. High-pitched and painful to listen to. “People are talking about your department and lack of action. If we are in danger in our own homes, we have a right to know.”
Mrs. Lippe was one of those people—one who would demand answers—and while she may hurt my ears when she spoke, she tended to ask the uncomfortable questions that no one else was willing to raise.
The sheriff’s look was one of a man who had dealt with Mrs. Lippe for too many years. “I understand there are concerns. But we’re still gathering information, and I assure you, when we know more, you’ll be the first to hear it.”
“And what about her?” a man behind me asked, and when I turned to look, he was pointing straight at me. “What about the break-in at her store? Is that connected to the home break-ins?”
I saw them all turn and look at me, and I felt my face flush. I hated being the center of attention, and I was a terrible liar, and I had no intention of telling them the truth.
What a fucking fuckup.
“Say something,” Lorna encouraged me, digging her elbow into my side. Lily heard her and nodded at me. I looked at her with wide eyes, and she jerked her head, indicating I was to stand up.
This was a bad idea. When I looked at the sheriff, he had the same look of expectation as some of the others.
Shit.
Rising to my feet on legs that felt too shaky to keep me upright, I cleared my throat. “Hey.” My voice broke and Isounded like a frog. “So, um, I don’t really know anything, but um, my break-in felt kind of, um, personal.” I gulped mouthfuls of air. “So yeah, um, I don’t think it’s connected.”
The room was silent as they digested my words, and I started to sit down. I was caught in a crouch when someone asked me a question I didn’t have an answer to.
“So…you’re saying the people who broke intomyhouse wasn’t personal?” Her tone was accusing. “Because it feltplentypersonal tome.”
“What? No! Of course, I don’t mean it isn’t a personal attack?—”
“Whoa, boy,” I heard Noel murmur, and I glanced at him in panic to see him shaking his head.