6
+15 BONU
That evening, Amber lay on her bed and pulled out a piece of stationery from beneath her pillow. Her movements were furtive, as
if she feared being discovered.
I was surprised to see she had found my personal writing set–the one with the silver wolf emblem that Mom had given me for
my sixteenth birthday. The ivory paper and matching envelopes had been my prized possession, something I used only for special occasions. I hadn’t even realized Amber had taken it from my room.
“So that’s where it went,” I muttered uselessly, watching her fingers trace the embossed logo.
She studied one of my old letters for a moment, comparing the handwriting to her own. Then she began carefully mimicking my penmanship on the clean page. Her pen moved with deliberate strokes, her tongue poking out slightly in concentration, forming words that were uncannily similar to my own script.
“You’re disturbingly good at that,” I observed, floating closer to see what she was writing.
When she finished, she blew gently on the ink to dry it, then folded the letter precisely along the creases. She slipped out of her room and into the hallway. I followed, curious about what she was planning.
Her footsteps were almost silent as she crept down the corridor. Outside my father’s bedroom, she paused, listening for any movement within. Hearing nothing, she knelt down and slid the letter under his door, then hurried back to her room, a small smile playing on her lips.
She barely had time to settle back on her bed before an angry roar erupted from my father’s bedroom. The sound of something shattering against a wall followed–likely a whiskey glass, given his habits.
“That little demon!” His voice thundered through the mansion, making the crystal chandelier in the hallway tremble. “Now she threatens to expose pack secrets? She always was Caroline’s daughter–manipulative to the core! I have no child like her! She can rot in whatever hole she’s hiding in!”
