Author's Point of View

While she flipped through yet another ancient ledger, the room was heavy with the smell of wet earth and moldy paper. Shelves made of wood in the packhouse basement, covered with a thick coat of dust, held records unmoved for decades. Somewhere in these abandoned pages was the truth. They only needed to look for it.

Caleb stood close by, his brow creased as he stared at a second stack of books. "Anything yet?" Fiona rubbed her temples and exhaled quickly. "Nothing helpful. Just trade agreements, bloodline records, and ancient records of land…"

Pausing, she glared at a particular page. The change in her face at...