Records and Warnings

ISLA

I spent the whole next day at my desk, digging through old newspaper archives and league records, looking for anything about the night Ethan's career ended. I had read the official story a hundred times growing up.

*Ethan Cole, promising young player, made a reckless move on the ice, broke league rules, got banned.*

Case closed. Nobody ever talked about it again.

But now that I was really looking, actually looking, the story didn't add up.

The official report said the incident happened during a scrimmage with no cameras present, which was strange, because every single practice back then was filmed for training purposes. I found the roster from that day, and it had been changed twice, the names shuffled around like someone was trying to hide who was actually on the ice with him. And the doctor who signed off on Ethan's medical suspension didn't even work for the league anymore. He'd disappeared completely, no forwarding address, nothing.

My hands were shaking a little by the time I picked up my phone and called my brother.

"Isla?" Ethan answered on the second ring, sounding surprised. "Everything okay?"

"I need to ask you something," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "About that night. The night your career ended."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Too long.

"Why are you asking about that now," he said, and his voice had changed completely, gone flat and careful in a way that scared me more than shouting would have.

"Because the records don't match up, Ethan. The roster was changed. The doctor disappeared. Somebody covered something up, and I want to know what really happened to you."

"Isla, stop," he said, and now I could hear something underneath his words, something that sounded almost like panic. "Stop digging into this. Please."

"What? Ethan, you spent years telling me it didn't matter, that you didn't want to talk about it, and now that I'm finally getting close to the truth, you want me to stop?"

"Yes," he said, and his voice cracked on the word. "Yes, I want you to stop. This isn't a normal story, Isla. This isn't something you can just write an article about and walk away from."

My chest felt tight. "Then tell me what it is."

"I can't," he said. "I can't, and I need you to trust me on this one thing. Stay away from the Northern Wolves. Stay away from those three brothers, Isla. You don't know what they are."

The words hit me like cold water. "What do you mean, what they are? Ethan, are they dangerous? Did they hurt you?"

"Just listen to me," he said, his voice shaking now. "Please. For once in your life, just listen to me and stay away."

He hung up before I could say another word.

I sat there holding my phone, staring at the blank screen, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. Ethan had never sounded like that before. Not once, not even right after it happened, not even at his lowest. He sounded terrified.

I told myself I would be careful walking home that night, and I was, checking over my shoulder more than usual, gripping my keys between my fingers the way my mother taught me years ago. That was probably why I noticed him. A man in a dark coat, standing across the street from my apartment building, not doing anything, just standing there, watching.

I stopped walking. He didn't move.

"Hey!" I called out, my voice louder and braver than I felt. "Can I help you with something?"

He turned and walked away, fast, disappearing around the corner before I could get a good look at his face. I ran after him, my heart slamming against my ribs, but by the time I reached the corner, the street was empty. No footsteps. No sign of him at all, like he'd vanished into thin air.

I stood there in the cold, shaking.

. . .

KILLIAN

I sat in Asher's room with him and Zane, a folder open on the table between us, and none of us had spoken in almost a full minute. We were all staring at the same page, the same impossible page, like if we looked at it long enough, it would suddenly start making sense.

"Say something," Asher finally said, running a hand through his hair. "Somebody say something, because I keep reading this and it doesn't change."

"There's nothing before she was six," Zane said quietly, and for once, all the anger was gone from his voice, replaced with something closer to disbelief. "No school records. No medical records. No photographs. Nothing. It's like she didn't exist before that."

"People don't just appear out of nowhere," Asher said.

"Wolves do," I said quietly.

Both my brothers looked at me.

"You're not saying what I think you're saying," Zane said slowly.

"Our mother disappeared when we were young," I said, laying it out carefully, because saying it out loud made it feel more real, more terrifying. "Our missing Luna vanished when she was six years old. Fourteenth years ago. The exact same age Isla's records begin."

"That's a coincidence," Zane said, but he didn't sound like he believed it.

"Is it?" I asked. "Because our wolves recognized her the second she walked into that arena. All three of us. That doesn't happen with normal humans, Zane. That doesn't happen with anyone who isn't connected to us in the deepest possible way."

Asher sat back in his chair, his face pale. "If this is true... if Isla really is our Luna..."

"Then someone hid her," Zane said, finishing the thought, his jaw tight. "Someone erased her whole past and hid her in plain sight for fourteen years, and none of us had any idea."

"Why would someone do that?" Asher asked, though I don't think he expected an answer, because none of us had one.

I thought about the way Isla had looked at us in that interview room, confused and angry and completely unaware of what she was to us. She had no idea what she might be carrying inside her. No idea that her whole life might be built on a lie someone told her before she was even old enough to remember the truth.

"We have to find out," I said. "Carefully. If someone hid her on purpose, then whoever did it might still be watching her. If we push too hard, too fast, we could put her in danger."

"She's already investigating us," Zane said. "She's not going to just walk away from this, Killian. She's too stubborn for that."

"Then we protect her," I said, "whether she wants us to or not."

Zane let out a short, humorless laugh. "Good luck making her accept that. She hates us."

"She doesn't know the truth yet," Asher said quietly. "None of it. Not about us, not about herself, not about any of this."

I looked down at the folder again, at the empty space where six years of a little girl's life should have been, and something cold settled deep in my chest.

"Then we're going to have to be the ones who tell her," I said. "Before someone else finds her first."

None of us said anything else for a long time. We just sat there, staring at a folder full of secrets, all of us thinking the same terrifying thought.

Twelve years of searching, and their Luna had been standing right in front of them the whole time, hiding behind a stack of articles and a face full of anger she didn't even understand yet.