Chapter 242. History Repeating Itself?

Caleb’s POV

I watched my father closely, my arms crossed, leaning against the doorway of the morgue where he stood, pacing back and forth like a lion in a cage. The light from the morgue streamed through the cracked door, illuminating the tension in the creases of his forehead and the stiffness of his jaw. He hadn’t spoken in over five minutes, not since my question shattered the remaining calm in the atmosphere. I could see the storm building in his eyes. He was trying not to let it show, but I knew him too well for that. Something was eating at him.

“I’ll talk to Alpha Jackson again,” he finally muttered, barely above a whisper, his voice gravelly with exhaustion.

I straightened, my brow furrowing. “You already did,” I reminded him. “He told you the remains were dealt with. That they were set on fire, reduced to nothing.”

He stopped, turned to me, and nodded slowly. “Yes. But that’s just it, Caleb. That’s what he told me. What if he didn’t give us th