Page 40 of Wolf's Forbidden Curse

That’s why when I got back home, I started tidying up both my space and myself. I cleaned with what few supplies I found underneath Al’s kitchen sink, then took some time to wash my hair, shave my legs, and light a few candles so that the place would smell less like cleaning solution.

About an hour before Rory said he would arrive, my phone made a sound I wasn’t used to hearing. I had a notification from one of my old email addresses. I didn’t even know I was still logged into that account, but thankfully, it didn’t ask me for a password when I went to see what was in my inbox. I figured it would just be some outdated junk mail, but it turned out to be something far more interesting. It was a notification from a search engine reporting website.

My heart skipped a beat.

Holy shit.

I read through the email, scanning the text for anything important or relevant. The email included text from an article about a bookstore on the West Coast, the owner of which made an effort to deliver books all over town to make sure everyone had access to the gift of reading. It wasn’t until I got to the bottom of the email that I saw why this had been sent to me.

A few years ago, before I decided that I was going to come back to the States and start over, I created an account on a website that would track online data and inform me if anyone going by my younger sister’s name ever appeared in the news. At that point in time, I wasn’t sure I would ever see my sister again, and this was the only way I thought I could safely keep track of what was going on in her life without putting us in danger.

Over the years, I never received any correspondence from the website and completely forgot about setting up the account in the first place.

Until now.

I re-read the name that was both highlighted and bolded in the last sentence of the article just to make sure that I wasn’t seeing things.

Along with her coworker and best friend, Diana Pearl, store owner Georgie has been able to expand her delivery range, allowing customers in neighboring counties to receive books from her charming little shop.

I took a screenshot of the email but didn’t need to do any further research. The article had been published on the tourism website for Silverleaf, meaning I knew exactly where Diana was living. Or at least where she had been living.

When I checked the date for the post, it was over a year ago. I didn’t realize the website would be operating on such a lag, and I had no way of knowing whether or not Diana was still even on the West Coast. Without any way to contact her, along with not even knowing whether or not I wanted to contact her, there wasn’t much that I could do with this information at the moment.

By the time I put my phone down, I realized just how quickly my heart rate had sped up. I needed to get some fresh air and calm myself down before Rory arrived. I stepped outside and was surprised to see Missy sitting on the steps leading up to Al’s back porch by herself.

When Missy noticed me walking over, she didn’t return my smile.

“Hey,” I said, adding a wave for extra politeness. “Nice night, huh?”

“Sure,” she said noncommittal.

“Where’s Al?”

“He’s inside showering,” Missy said. “I had to make a phone call, so I stepped out.”

“Ah. Do you need some privacy?” I stopped a few paces from the patio stairs, thinking this must be the reason she wasn’t happy to see me. I must’ve interrupted something important. “I can go back inside.”

“That’s okay. I just hung up.”

“... Okay. Well, I don’t want to bother you anyway. I just wanted to let Al know that I’m having a friend over tonight.”

“A friend?”

“Yeah, Rory. You might’ve met him one night at the bar. He was there with a group of friends. Tall, dark hair.”

She shook her head. “Doesn’t ring any bells. But I’ll let Al know.”

“Okay, thanks.” I tried smiling at her once again, and this time, she smiled back, but it was noticeably strained. “Er—uh—have a good night.”

“Hang on a second.” She pushed herself up from the step and walked over to me. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

“What’s up?” My voice cracked a little, and I realized Missy, although small in stature, could be kind of intimidating when she wanted to.

“Well, I was talking to Al earlier today,” she said. “And he was telling me a little more about how you showed up in town out of the blue and how he doesn’t know much about your past.”

“What can I say? I’m a bit of a private person.”

“Which I understand—trust me. It’s just that the more he talked about you, the more I got the impression that you’re keeping secrets. Big ones. Is that true?”

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