Samantha walked into Fate Valley Antiques and found Alexander Elwood sitting behind the long antique counter. The store was dimly lit, with antiques in every corner and hanging from the ceiling. She spotted a century old hobbyhorse, a magnificent armoire, and portraits of people in antebellum clothing.

She loved antiques almost as much as she loved history and the place had a charm and curiosity about it that she knew she could explore for hours. She wandered down the aisles for a few moments before approaching the counter where Alexander sat, examining a stamp collection.

“Alexander Elwood?” she asked.

“How can I help you today ma’am?” he said, sniffing the air. She could tell he knew she was a shifter.

“I’m Benjamin Darling’s new mate, Samantha Cooper,” she said. “I’ve come all the way from New York City to write an article about Ambrose Morgan for the Historic Times.”

“You’re the Samantha Cooper from the Historic Times? I love that publication. I have a subscription for the shop, and you’re my favorite writer.”

“Thank you.”

“How can I help you today, Samantha Cooper?”

“I had some questions for you about Ambrose Morgan,” she said.

“Shoot.”

“I learned at the museum that there was a town here before the lake was flooded. All the guide could tell me was that the town was full of squatters. I know the residents were displaced to make way for the flooding of the lake. I was hoping you could tell me a little more about them.”

“Did he tell you they were shifters?” he asked.

“Shifters?” she said in shock.

“Yes. The original settlement was a settlement of shifters. Most humans, most shifters even, don’t know that. Back then, shifters were still secretive about their nature.”

“How do you know?”

“I have more access to shifter history than any human, and most shifters.”

“What happened to the shifters after they were displaced?”

“They moved further up the banks to a new settlement in Fate Valley.”

“Who were they?”

“Most of them came from one wolfpack. They were angry that they had to leave their hunting grounds, but I believe Ambrose Morgan bought them new land. Free and clear.”

“Do they still live there today?” she asked.

“As far as I know, the descendants of the original pack still live on the same land.”

“Have the police been informed of this information? They might still have a grudge against Morgan.”

“No one ever asked. Plus, it was so long ago, and Morgan provided them new land. I never imagined it could be them.”

“Everyone suspects the Midwest Mayhem group.”

“I don’t know anything about them, except that they seem a little cagey. There’s been some broken windows in town, and graffiti. Turning the lion statue upside down at City Hall was rude to say the least,” Alexander said.

“If that group of shifters was angry about the valley being flooded back then, is it possible they could still feel that way now? It could be motivation to take the statue.”

“Maybe,” he said.

“I don’t think anyone even knew that the original pack still lived here.”

“Do you think that they could be responsible for taking the statue?” he asked skeptically.

“Sure. But I still can’t imagine how they could have moved it without anyone noticing,” she mused.

“They’re all wolves. Maybe a group of half a dozen bears, in bear form, could move a two-thousand-pound statue. But I don’t know how many wolf shifters it would take. They aren’t as strong as bears.”

“I can see what you mean,” she said, tapping her finger to her lip. “Do you know where the wolfpack lives now?”

“I do. They aren’t part of the Shifter Community Association. They keep to themselves mostly and live off grid. I only know that because I made an intensive study of the founding of the valley when I first opened the shop. Very few people even know that original settlers were shifters. I found information on the land purchase deep in the city archives during my research. I only discovered they were wolves due to a few clues in the newspapers of the time. I could see the signs in their eyes. When I went out to speak with them, they weren’t very welcoming.”

“Could you write the address down for me?”

Alexander pulled out a pen and paper and wrote down the address. She read it and shoved the paper in her purse. She was about to thank him and leave, but she still had the nagging question about her ancestry. It was embarrassing, and she didn’t really want to talk about it. But she had to get it out. Alexander knew so much about the original town, maybe he knew something about this as well.

“There’s one other thing,” she started.

“Oh?” he asked, taking off his reading glasses.

“You see, I’m an orphan and I recently did one of those DNA tests to find out your famous relatives. It came back that I was related to Ambrose Morgan. I found out from his great-granddaughter that Ambrose had an affair with his maid and I suspect that’s where I came from I was devastated by the news, as you might imagine. I was wondering if you had any idea what her name was?”

“I think I have something you should see.”

“What is it?”

“Come, I’ll show you.”

He went to the back of the shop and unlocked a door that led to his storage room. She followed him inside, the smell of dust and time wafting through the air. He opened a small trunk and pulled out a few letters.

“I purchased this trunk a while back in an estate auction. It had a false bottom that hadn’t been opened in decades. Not many people knew these exist. I opened it up after I bought it, and found this letter inside.”

He handed her the letters and she began to read.

“My dearest Eugenia. My love for you knows no bounds. I know that what we did was wrong in the eyes of many. Perhaps we should have held our love inside while Mary still lived. You know my relationship with her was never a happy one. She was a cruel and spiteful woman, incapable of love. Finding comfort in your arms was like finding the love I had always so desperately wanted. Now that she is gone, we can be together. I know that it is unheard of for people like us to marry, but I want you to be my lawful wife. I want to declare it to the world that I love you, Eugenia. I have never loved anyone as much as I love you. I only wish I didn’t have to say this in a letter, my dearest darling. I beg you to be my wife and to be mine for the rest of our lives. Humbly and eternally yours, Ambrose V. Morgan.”

“It’s his handwriting,” Alexander said. “I’ve checked it against other documents.”

Tears began to stream from Samantha’s eyes. She couldn’t believe what she was reading. Ambrose had loved her grandmother. He regretted cheating on his late wife, who he had never loved. The most amazing part was that he wanted to marry her. It would have been a complete scandal at the time and would have lost him his position in society. He truly loved her. More than anything. More than his position, more than his money, more than his reputation.

“I looked at the travel logs for the train station on the day that Ambrose died, after I read those letters. I found that Eugenia Bowman was, in fact, riding a train the very day he died in the car accident. I suspect that she was coming to meet him.”

“I can’t believe it. And here I thought he was a horrible person who had used his maid for his own selfish reasons while cheating on his sick wife.”

“Mrs. Morgan is said to have been a cruel and selfish woman. She was sick with cancer for many years before she passed away, but her demanding and derogatory behavior is somewhat legendary in Fate Valley.”

“I had no idea,” Samantha said, sitting down on the nearest chair.

She’d never heard anything so sad in her life.

“Eugenia was pregnant at the time. I found other correspondences in the box that made that clear.”

“Do you know what became of the child?”

“I believe Eugenia stayed in Fate Valley. Other letters indicate Ambrose was trying to change his will, but I don’t think he was able to complete the changes before his death. Eugenia continued cleaning houses for the wealthy people of the town. Her son was born nine months after Ambrose passed away, and she named him Valentine, after Marvin.”

“That would be my grandfather. Does he still live in Fate Valley?”

“I believe that Valentine Bowman does still live here.”

“Thank you so much, Alexander. You helped me so much. I don’t know how I can ever thank you.”

“Just keep writing those amazing articles, and that will be thanks enough. It’s nice to know there’s another history buff out there who loves this stuff as much as I do.”