KIERAN’S POV
I barely remembered the ride home—just the steady rumble of the engine and the taste of guilt and unease souring in my mouth.
When I arrived, I sat in the driveway with the engine off, bathed in silence and the judgmental glow of the moon, my hands wrapped around the steering wheel as if it were the only thing keeping me grounded.
My phone rang.
Gavin.
I stared at the screen for a second, chest tight, then answered.
"Yeah?"
“You need to hear this,” Gavin said without preamble. His voice was clipped, cautious. “I pulled the server logs from the security archive of the hotel for the Blood Moon Hunt, just like you asked.”
My grip on the wheel tightened. “And?”
“There was footage,” he said. “Corridor cams, lobby, elevator—hell, even the vending machines had security cameras. But…”
“But what?”
“About three months ago, someone put in a formal request to delete specific recordings from the night of the Blood Moon Hunt.”
