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felt about ready to collapse, but she still had one more chore to check off of her “to do” list—calling her father. It was time for some answers and she was sure that her father would have most of them for her.

“Eden,” her father answered after the first ring. “How is Graystone?” She was sure that question was going to get old over the next four years. Now that she was on campus, her father seemed more interested in the campus and academy than he was about her and her well-being.

“The academy is fine, Dad. I’m fine too, thanks for asking,” she sassed. Her father sighed into the cell phone and she knew that he was already done with their conversation. This call was a new record. Usually, it took at least five minutes before he was ready to get off of the phone with her.

“You don’t make it easy, do you, Eden?” he asked.

“Nope,” she breathed. “I like to keep you on your toes, Dad. I called for two reasons,” she said. “First, to say thank you for the money you wired into my account. I was able to do some shopping today and get some new clothes and things I need for the room—you know, to make it my own.”

“You are very welcome. It’s important for you to settle in and add your own flare and style to the room. It was the least I could do to help since your mother couldn’t get your things up to you,” he said. Her father liked to get his little jabs in whenever he could, especially when it came to her mother. He was right, sending money was the least he could do to help her out, but she learned a long time ago to take what she could get from him and be grateful that they had any semblance of a father/daughter relationship.

“What’s the second reason why you called tonight?” her father asked. Yeah—this was the part he wasn’t going to like very much, but she needed to know.

“It’s about your sister, Bianca,” she said. The silence on the other end made her think that maybe her father hung up on her. “Dad,” she said.

“I’m here,” he said. “Your mother told me that you asked her about my sister when you were younger. Didn’t she answer your questions?” he asked.

“Some of them, yes,” she said. “But I’m wondering how she died.”

“It’s something I don’t like talking about, Eden,” he breathed. She could hear the pain in his voice and she felt bad about putting it there, but Bianca was her aunt and Eden had a right to know what happened to her.

“I know, Dad. I’d like to know more about my aunt,” she said. “Please.”

“I don’t know how much I can tell you. We were both students at Graystone when it happened. Your aunt was three years behind me in school and when it happened, my family sheltered me from a lot of the news surrounding her death,” he said. “I guess they were trying to protect me.”

“What about kids on campus?” she asked. “Didn’t they talk?” Eden thought back to the little scene in the dining hall, earlier that day with Anson and Duff. She knew firsthand how kids around campus liked to talk.

“Sure,” her father admitted. “But I also learned to ignore the gossip. Being a Graystone, the other students will talk about you constantly. You will need to learn to tune that out, Eden. Otherwise, you will go insane with the gossip that floats around campus.” She was already learning that hard lesson, but she was going to keep that little bit of information to herself.

“What did your family tell you about Bianca?” she asked, switching the focus from herself back to her aunt.

“Just that she was found in the woods. They said she had been attacked and believed it was a wolf shifter who did it,” her father said.

“Was the wolf shifter a Kirkpatrick?” she whispered, sure that she already knew the answer to her question.

“How do you know that?” her father asked. “His name is Dugan Kirkpatrick. He dated Bianca behind our family’s back. Our father put me in charge of her care on campus. He told me to keep an eye on her and when that shifter came sniffing around, I couldn’t stand by and let it happen. She knew better than to date a wolf shifter,” he growled into the cell. His words stung, like a personal assault, and she knew that telling her father about Anson and Duff was out of the question.

“Why do you believe it’s him?” she asked. “You said he was dating Aunt Bianca. If that was the case, why would you believe he’d hurt her?”

“Because he’s a wolf shifter and that’s what they do,” he grumbled.

“Not all wolf shifter’s are bad, dad. That would be like saying that all witches practice the dark arts and are evil. I think you were more upset that your sister went behind your back and dated a shifter. Could that be why you still blame him for her death? How do you know she was attacked by a shifter?”

“Because her insides were torn out,” he almost whispered. “That little bit of information I learned on my own. My father would have never told me that. Bianca was basically gutted. She was murdered by a supernatural and if I had to guess, it was a wolf shifter who did it. Duncan Kirkpatrick had means and motive—he wanted to keep her all to himself and when he couldn’t have her anymore, he killed her. It’s simple really.”

“What happened to Duncan Kirkpatrick?” she asked, although she already knew the answer to her question, having met his sons.

“Nothing,” her father breathed. “I raised him up as a suspect to both the local authorities and the school administrators, and neither of them did anything but question him. He was the one who found her. Says he stumbled across her body while out for a run in

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