Dead Ends and Hidden Truths

Annabeth's POV

The car ride was long, the monotonous stretch of highway giving me too much time to think. I barely slept during the night, the weight of everything pressing down on me. The investigation into the shady doctor who treated Avery had been moving forward, but with each new discovery, the danger felt closer, more tangible.

My assistant, Nathan, sat beside me, reading through more documents on his tablet as we made our way toward the pack. His fingers swiped quickly across the screen, eyes darting back and forth between the road and his notes. He had a quiet, methodical way of working, but I could tell the tension in the air was getting to him too. This was personal. For all of us. He liked Cam as well.

When we finally arrived, it was already late in the afternoon and the clinic was just as I had imagined it—a nondescript building tucked away near the edge of the pack lands, hidden in plain sight. It was small, almost too unassuming.

When I stepped out of the car, the air felt colder, thicker. It wasn't just the chill of the evening; it was the unease crawling through my skin. I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but this wasn't it.

As I approached the clinic's entrance, I froze for a moment, noticing the police cars parked outside. Several pack officers were milling around, their conversation hushed, their postures tense. The last thing I wanted was to be caught up in their investigation, but I couldn't turn back now. I needed answers—and I needed them fast.

I approached one of the officers I knew standing by the door, trying to stay calm despite the storm inside me. "What happened?" I asked, keeping my voice low.

The officer turned to look at me, his face grim. "Doctor's dead. Murdered. Someone showed up unannounced—just killed him. We've got it under control for now, but... you might want to stay clear."

Murder. My stomach churned at the word. This was no longer about finding information. The situation had escalated in a way I hadn't anticipated.

I pushed past the officer, my heart hammering in my chest. "Where is the body?"

The officer hesitated for a moment, then gestured to the back. "The alpha's on his way to oversee the investigation. The pack police are taking care of things. You can talk to the nurse if you want to know more."

I nodded curtly, my steps quick as I moved to the rear of the clinic. Inside, the nurse was speaking to another officer, but she noticed me as I entered.

"What happened?" I asked, unable to keep the sharp edge from my voice.

The nurse's face was pale, her hands trembling as she clasped them in front of her. "I—I don't know. The doctor... he was killed." She swallowed, her voice shaking. "Someone came in, said they needed treatment but from only Dr Armstrong, they waited until he got here... then they attacked him. I didn't hear anything until it was too late. I called the alpha right away."

My mind raced. "What about the patients? Who were they?"

The nurse shook her head. "I don't know. The police said it was a rogue, but that's all we have. They didn't say anything about who they were or why they did it."

A rogue. It made sense, but something about it felt wrong. Why would a rogue kill a doctor like that? There was more to this. Much more.

"Where is the body?" I asked again, my voice more insistent now.

She pointed toward the back room, where the body was being prepared for transport. The pack police were still inside, taking measurements and gathering evidence. I couldn't get in there—not yet—but I needed something. I needed to see something, anything that would give me a clue about who was behind this.

I moved to the office door and pushed it open, trying to keep a low profile as I stepped inside. The room was sterile, clinical—nothing out of the ordinary. But that didn't matter. This wasn't about finding the obvious. This was about finding something hidden.

Nathan followed me inside, his eyes scanning the room. "This feels wrong," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper.

I agreed. The place was too quiet. Too empty. There was nothing to suggest the doctor had been anything other than a simple, by-the-book physician.

I stepped toward the desk, hoping to find something—any clue—that would explain why he was killed. But everything was neat and organized. The files were empty, the desk cleared. Nothing seemed out of place except for the weight of the silence hanging in the air.

Nathan walked to the bulletin board on the wall, his fingers tracing over something. "Hey, Annabeth, check this out."

I moved over to him, peering at the picture he'd pulled down. It was an old family photo—faded and yellowing with time. At first, it seemed insignificant, but then I saw the words beneath it: In Loving Memory of Peter Kaminski.

It didn't mean anything at first, but then something clicked. The name was familiar—too familiar. I had heard it before, somewhere.

I stepped closer, my breath catching as I scanned the picture. It wasn't just the name that struck me—it was the faces. The person who really stood out beside Peter Kaminski was the woman next to him. She looked so familiar.

"What is it?" Nathan asked, his voice low, sensing the shift in my focus.

"I've seen these people before," I muttered under my breath. "The woman... I know her."

But I couldn't place her. It gnawed at me. Who was she? And why did I feel like I'd seen her in more than just this picture?

I stepped back and began looking around the rest of the office. My gut told me there was something more to this doctor's life than just his medical practice.

The door creaked behind me, and I spun around just as a pack officer stepped inside. He didn't seem to notice us right away, too focused on his notes. Nathan caught my eye and nodded toward the back of the clinic.

"We need to leave," I whispered. "Now."

We slipped out of the office quickly and i nodded my thanks to the officer as we slipped into the car.

As we drove, my thoughts swirled. I had to find out who that woman was, why she seemed so familiar, but more importantly, we needed answers about the doctor's death. It was too much of a coincidence that we were getting close to the truth and now he was dead.

Nathan and i agreed to lay low at our motel until nightfall then we'd take a visit at the doctors house.

Nathan was quiet beside me, sensing the tension in the air. "We need to lay low for a while," he said, breaking the silence. "Wait until nightfall, then we can head to the doctor's house. We can't afford to raise any more suspicion."

I nodded in agreement. "We'll keep it low-key. Just the two of us. We get in, find whatever we can, and get out before anyone notices."

We checked into a small motel on the outskirts of town. It was nothing fancy—barely more than a place to sleep for the night—but it gave us a moment to rest and gather our thoughts. The room was calm and quiet, but my mind wouldn't stop racing.

Who had the doctor really been working for? And who had killed him?

As the sun dipped below the horizon, we agreed it was time. We left the motel and drove to the doctor's house, the night air thick with the weight of everything we still had to uncover.

We approached the house carefully, staying in the shadows as we moved to the back. The door was locked, but I had expected that. I pulled out a set of tools I kept for situations like this, the feeling of necessity pulsing through me. The lock clicked open after a few moments, and we slipped inside without a sound.

The house was dark, the only light filtering in from the moon outside. It was quiet—too quiet. We moved through the rooms cautiously, scanning every corner for anything out of place. Nothing stood out at first, just a typical house. But there was an unease in the air, something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

We worked our way through the first floor, but there was nothing. No clues, no evidence of anything unusual. Just a life that seemed... ordinary.

Nathan paused as we approached the stairs, his hand resting on the banister. "You think there's anything up there?"

"I hope so," I muttered. "But we can't be sure."

I took the lead, heading up the stairs with Nathan close behind me. The second floor seemed even quieter, and it was as if the entire house was holding its breath.

We pushed open a door at the end of the hallway to reveal what was clearly the doctor's office. Papers were strewn across the desk, but nothing that seemed useful. I started sifting through the papers quickly, my heart pounding in my chest. But there was a feeling in the pit of my stomach—something told me we were going to find more than we bargained for tonight.

Nathan was already at the filing cabinet, pulling open drawers. I caught the faintest sound—something shifting, something hidden in the back of the room. And then he called out, his voice tense.

"Annabeth... you need to see this."

I walked over to him and looked at the folder he was holding. My blood ran cold as I took it from him.

It was Avery's file.

I took the folder from Nathan's hand, the weight of it suddenly heavy. I couldn't explain the way my chest tightened, or why my fingers trembled as I carefully opened it.

Inside, the first thing that caught my eye was the bold, black lettering: Avery Carter. My heart skipped a beat as I flipped through the pages, the sharp corners of each one feeling like a revelation.

I scanned the contents quickly—medical records, notes, dates—and then I stopped. My blood ran cold as I saw something that didn't belong. There, neatly tucked into the report, was a treatment plan. But it wasn't just any treatment plan. It was one that looked carefully calculated, deliberately written with chilling intent.

Diagnosis: Poisoning. Cause of death: Undetermined.

The file wasn't just a set of medical notes—it was a well-thought-out plan for Avery's death. Every detail was carefully outlined, almost like the doctor had written it as if he were preparing for a clinical procedure.

The plan started with administering a slow-acting poison disguised as routine medication. The doctor had fabricated the prescriptions, using a mild sedative mixed in with the toxins to weaken her over time. The idea was to keep her off balance, make her symptoms appear like something less sinister, until the real poison was introduced.

After a few days, the plan called for increasing the dosage, with a "bitter root" blend to speed up the process. He'd make sure her condition worsened enough for him to step in, maintaining control over her treatment while the toxins did their work.

The final dose was meant to be lethal—an injection that would overwhelm her heart and lungs, designed to kill her within hours. It was all planned for day 10, at a time when Avery would likely think she was just coming down with something. The report even mentioned how he would make it appear as though her death was natural.

Was Avery on medications? her file didn't mention it so was someone making her sick?

As I flipped through the pages, my heart started to pound harder in my chest. The doctor's twisted attention to detail didn't stop with Avery.

Avery's Mother – "A Necessary Elimination"

In a separate report, the doctor outlined the necessity of removing Avery's mother. According to the doctor's notes, Avery's mother was a potential threat to the plans—specifically, to Maddison's ability to form a relationship with Camden. The doctor believed that Camden was holding back from pursuing Maddison because of his guilt over her Avery's decision to abort his child .

"Camden's relationship with anything tied to Avery must be severed, and the only way to achieve this is to remove her mother. The absence of her mother will allow Camden to grieve, and in doing so, he will become emotionally vulnerable. Maddison will step in as a support figure. The bonds between them will strengthen, and with time, Camden will accept Maddison as his future."

Who was Maddison?

The thought that Avery's mother had been targeted like this, all so Camden could eventually be with her... It sickened me.

What shocked me most, though, was the section about the rogues. They were indeed hired to kill Avery. Her return has made her a threat to their plans. Their instructions were clear: take her out but don't leave any trace behind.

But there was one detail that stood out even more—a name I didn't recognize: "Undercover Rogue".

The journal indicated that the doctor had a mole within the pack, someone who had been placed there to keep an eye on Avery. They had been working inside the pack all along, ensuring that information was funneled back to the doctor and his employers. The note was chillingly vague:

"Rogue has been integrated into the pack. Maintain communication discreetly. This asset is critical for monitoring Avery's movements."

My Hands Trembled

I had to stop reading for a moment, my hands shaking as I tried to process everything. This wasn't just some isolated event.

This wasn't just a one-off attack—this was something deeper, more coordinated. Whoever was behind all of this was playing a dangerous game, and I was certain that they wouldn't stop until they got what they wanted.

I slammed the file shut. Someone—someone close to Camden—had to have set all of this into motion. I looked over Avery files a million times and she was never on any medications outlined here.

I glanced at Nathan, who was carefully sifting through another stack of papers on the desk. He had an unreadable expression.

"This is bigger than we thought," I murmured, my voice tight. "We need to get this information back to Camden as soon as possible. But first..."

I glanced at the floorboards again, my gaze narrowing. "Let's keep checking."

Nathan nodded, following me as we moved through the house. The kitchen was empty, but I wasn't looking for the obvious clues anymore. Everything about this doctor screamed caution. We couldn't leave anything to chance.

We continued searching the office, Nathan was busy on the doctors computer when he called saying he found more photos.

I walked over to him, and my heart stopped. The pictures on the screen—those same faces—Peter, his wife, and their daughter. But now, I could see something else in the photos. The doctor's gaze on Peter's wife was... unsettling. He'd been looking at her differently.

"I think he had feelings for her," Nathan said, voice quiet. "It wasn't just professional. It was personal."

A sick realization swept over me, and suddenly, I knew exactly who the woman was. It wasn't just any woman.

It was Alice. Camden's stepmother.

I stumbled back, gripping the edge of the desk to steady myself.

Nathan noticed my shift in stance and followed my gaze. "What is it?" he asked softly, stepping closer.

I didn't trust myself to speak, so I just pointed at the photo.

"Who is she?"

"The former Luna." Sick!

The weight of those words settled like lead in my stomach. This was all her doing. My mind raced, the puzzle pieces falling into place, but it only made everything more dangerous.

"We need to get out of here," Nathan said, breaking my train of thought. His voice was low, urgency creeping into it. "We've got what we came for."

But before we could make our move, a noise echoed from the front of the house. The unmistakable sound of a door creaking open.

I froze, my pulse hammering in my ears. Someone was coming.

Nathan gave me a sharp look. "Go," he hissed.

We rushed towards the back, ducking into a empty bedroom. Footsteps began to echo in the house.

I could hear voices, faint murmurs—too quiet to make out, but definitely moving toward the stairs. Someone else was here.

The air was thick with tension as we crouched low, barely daring to breathe. The footsteps were so close now, and I could feel the sweat collecting on the back of my neck.

Nathan's finger pointed to the window, a silent suggestion. I nodded, the plan forming quickly in my mind. They were searching the rooms.

The footsteps continued their slow march, closer and closer, as we tried to move quickly and quietly.  My pulse hammered in my ears as I grabbed the window pane and tried to ease it open.

Success! but it was short lived as the pane slipped and suddenly shut.

"thunk"

We froze. The sound seemed to echo through the room, louder than it should have been. The footsteps increased as we dove off the roof and taking cover into the bushes.

A moment later a man's face appeared at the window. He scanned the yard outside, clearly suspicious. His eyes darted over the bushes where we'd just been, then moved away. After what felt like an eternity, he turned and walked back toward the front of the house, but not before i spotted the shiny metal gripped in his hands- a knife,

"Let's go," Nathan whispered again, his face tense.

We moved quickly, slipping through the bushes, trying to keep low. The darkness felt like our only ally, swallowing us up as we made our way to the car. Every second felt like it could be our last—like we were inches away from being caught.

As we climbed into the car, the silence in the vehicle was deafening. I couldn't shake the feeling that we survived just by a hair.

As Nathan started the engine and pulled away, I leaned back in my seat, trying to steady my breathing. But the gnawing feeling in my gut told me we hadn't escaped unscathed. Not yet.

"Take me to the pack house. Now. Camden needs to know about this."