Chapter 75: Planning Their Murder

Chapter 75: Chapter 75: Planning Their Murder

She trailed off, her fingers twisting into the edge of the blanket. "I don’t even have a word for what he is. So if you’re asking me to analyze whether a marble statue is proof of an ancient wolf clan, my brain is a little too overloaded to give you an objective answer."

Zoey suddenly sat up straight, pointed an index finger at her, her eyes widening with sudden enthusiasm. "But that is precisely my point! The Blackthornes have to be at the center of all this. Look at the timeline, Iris. The Blackthorne family has existed for generations, their family has owned that land since Seattle was practically a logging town.

There’s an old photograph from 1891 of a man who looks exactly like Alexander standing in front of that estate. There are wolf statues everywhere in the estate, the people connected to the estate behave strangely, and I personally got the feeling that something was watching me."

She pointed toward Iris. "And today you saw three people you’ve known for years, turn into werewolves at the university. When you put all of it together, doesn’t it sound suspicious? It’s not a coincidence, Iris. It’s a pattern."

"Is it?" Iris murmured softly.

"Iris, it’s a glaring, neon-lit red flag!" Zoey exclaimed, tossing her hands up.

Despite the heavy tight knot in her stomach, Iris felt a small, fleeting smile pull at her lips. "You really do treat life like a true-crime podcast, don’t you?"

"Because life keeps acting like one!" Zoey countered, rolling her eyes. "Honestly, if only I had managed to sneak farther into that estate, I might have found something useful."

Iris’s smile vanished instantly, replaced by a sharp look. "Or they would have had you arrested and slapped you with a federal trespassing suit. Then you would have been sued into poverty," Iris replied flatly.

Zoey blinked, her dramatic flair deflating slightly. "Well... that’s a bit extreme."

"Zoey, listen to yourself." Iris’s voice grew serious. "You broke into the property of a family you believe might be made up of supernatural creatures. Who can also literally turn into apex predators.

This isn’t a game. No more breaking into private estates. No more playing investigator. What if you had stumbled onto something you weren’t meant to see? What if they decided you were a liability and that the easiest way to keep their secret was to make sure you never left the property?"

The lighthearted tone in the room vanished entirely. Zoey swallowed, her posture stiffening.

"A liability? Like... a permanent silence kind of thing?" She drew two fingers horizontally across her throat in a sharp, exaggerated motion, though her eyes lacked their previous humor.

"Yes," Iris said plainly.

The heavy truth of the word settled in the small room, thick and suffocating.

Iris leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Think about the mechanics of this, Zoey. If creatures like that have been living among humans for God knows how long....maybe decades, maybe centuries—owning banks, running corporations, attending classes—how have they kept it hidden in the age of smartphones and digital tracking? How does a secret that massive survive?"

Zoey’s eyebrows knitted together. "They’re rich. Rich people buy discretion."

"Or," Iris countered softly, "they ensure that anyone who accidentally stumbles onto the truth never gets the chance to post about it, talk about it, or tell a single soul. We have zero idea what protocols they have for protecting their existence. Or what they’re capable of doing to protect that secret."

Zoey tried to muster a weak, nervous laugh, pulling at her collar. "Okay, now you’re making them sound like some secret shadow syndicate running the world from the shadows. Or like they have a secret supernatural government, like.... ah...a Shadow Council of Fluff-Balls."

"I’m just trying to understand how this exists right beside us all these while and nobody knew about it." Iris whispered. "Also, I’m trying to figure out how I’m supposed to walk outside tomorrow knowing the world isn’t what I thought it was," Iris replied quietly.

Zoey stared at her, her tongue catching behind her teeth for a long moment. The usual witty retorts seemed to stall out completely.

The apartment fell into a heavy, quiet stillness. The faint, rhythmic hum of the air conditioner seemed to grow louder, filling the void. Outside, a car drove past, its headlights casting a fleeting, ghostly glow across the bedroom wall before vanishing into the night.

Zoey swallowed hard. "Okay. You need to stop. Just... stop saying things like that. You need to pull back on the existential dread."

She forced a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "Besides, this is the twenty-first century. People don’t just disappear because they saw a dog-man in a suit."

Iris raised an eyebrow. "You really believe that? After everything?"

Zoey hesitated, glancing away. "Well... maybe not as confidently as I did this morning."

"That is exactly the line someone says five minutes before they disappear in a horror movie," Iris noted. She paused, a new thought hitting her. She turned slowly to her friend. "If they’re willing to kill to protect their secret... what does that make me who saw them?"

Neither girl moved. They stared at each other.

"What if they’re already looking for me?" Iris asked, her voice trembling. "What if they’re on their way here right now because of what happened outside Professor Whitmore’s office?"

Zoey’s face went waxy and pale. "Don’t freak me out, Iris. We are not doing this. We are not sitting here imagining every possible way we could be murdered."

She rubbed the back of her neck to calm herself, letting out an uncomfortable breath. "So stop alright? You need to pull back on the existential dread."

She pushed herself off the bed, smoothing down her shirt with overly deliberate movements. "I refuse to sit here and plot out my own hypothetical murder over a breaking-and-entering charge. It’s bad for my brand."

"Zoey—"

"No, absolute veto," Zoey said, holding up a palm as she walked toward the center of the room. "We are grounding ourselves. We are remaining logical, rational, civilized human beings."

Iris deadpanned from the bed. "You? Rational?"

"Yes, me," Zoey insisted, pacing toward the doorframe before abruptly stopping and glancing toward the small dark hallway. "Because if we follow your terrifying line of logic... if they really do eliminate every single person who discovers their little secret... then you are at the top of their hit list....and apparently me as well."

Iris felt her stomach drop further. "And? Why are you in trouble as well?"

"Because you told me everything," Zoey said, her jaw dropping slightly as the realization hit her in real time.

Her hands began to fidget with the hem of her shirt. "Iris, I’m an accomplice to the knowledge! If they come to silence the primary witness, I’m the secondary target by default!"

"Thank you for the comfort," Iris muttered, though her own heart rate was beginning to spike.

"I’m just pointing out the structural flaw in our survival plan!" Zoey said, her voice climbing an octave before she caught herself and took a deep breath.

"Okay. No. We are overthinking." She tried to sound confident, but her fingers were fidgeting uncontrollably. "We’re definitely overthinking. We are catastrophic thinkers. That’s our flaw."

"You don’t sound very convincing."

"I am currently in the process of convincing myself, give me a second!"

Iris let out a shaky exhale, dropping her head into her hands.

Suddenly, without another word, Zoey turned on her heel and marched out into the hallway. Iris heard her socks sliding across the hardwood floor toward the living area, followed by the sharp, metallic scrape of a closet door being yanked open. Wood clattered against wood, followed by the shuffling of storage boxes.

"Zoey? What are you doing out there?" Iris called out, lifting her head.