The wheels came to a halt at the top of the hill, and the zebra driver took a deep breath before he unhitched himself from the harness and stretched his legs. As he breathed in, he couldn’t help but cough as he inhaled the traces of dust that still hung in the night air. He turned towards Tall Tale proper and took note of the plumes that had risen due to how quickly he had galloped from the police station to the small group of houses nestled in the base of Smokey Mountain Range. I hate the dust, he thought, it’s always more noticeable on the white stripes than the black ones.
As if on cue, the grey clouds above him dissipated, but the moon was already at its furthest wane and so offered no additional light. He stamped his hoof on the pavement—he had to get to Line House on Garfield Street. Fortunately for the driver, he knew exactly where to go; all that he had to do was gallop towards the flashing blue and red lights of the police carts. It wasn’t that much further, a fact for which he was glad as he hitched himself back up to the coach-style carriage whose covered windows blocked out the image of its sole occupant.
The first thing that the driver noticed about the house was that it was neither at the end of the street nor on the corner lot, but somewhere near the middle and that it was neither the tallest nor the shortest on the street. And yet, though it was middle-sized, it was still intimidating to view.
The second thing he noticed was that the house had a large, stone fence surrounding the perimeter covered in little white flowers, but it did little to alleviate the sudden anxiety that filled the driver, who took a step back just as the police-carriage doors in front of him opened and a pair of officers emerged. He stopped just behind a streetlight in front of the house and panted slightly from exhaustion as the two mares trotted up to him.
“This is a crime scene, sir,” the mare said. “I’m afraid you’ll have to turn back.”
“Listen, officer—”
“No, you listen, sir,” the mare replied, punctuating the final word. “This is a crime scene, and nopony, I mean nopony, is getting past us.” The zebra inhaled sharply and took another step back when the mare poked him in his barrel. “Do I make myself crystal clear?”
“Ma’am,” the driver said. “Missus Line paid me to—”
“I don’t care if Missus Line invited Princess Celestia herself here, this is still a crime scene, and we are not about to let it get contaminated.”
“Sir,” the other mare added in a placating tone. “I’m sure that she made the appointment earlier. Please, just turn around. We really don’t want to have to use force.”
“S’cuse me?” the driver asked as his legs began to tremble. “She did know ‘bout it. Why’d you think I ran full gallop all the way from Triple T Station?”
“What’s the hold up, Hadi?” came a voice from the carriage.
The two mares squinted towards the darkness at the voice. The door slammed against the side of the coach. Hadi turned just before the figure entered the light. The figure coughed through the dust and he flapped his wings to get last traces of it away from him. As the pegasus took a few steps forward, Hadi glanced once more at the two mares who blocked him and his passenger from their destination and hid a smirk at the police officers’ reactions.
“I simply cannot be late for my appointment with Missus Line,” the stallion said.
“Oh for the love of Luna’s Night,” one of the officers said as she rubbed a hoof along her temple and then pointed at the white pegasus’ film reel cutie mark. “How did the paparazzi already get a hold of this?” She began to shake her hooves in the air. “No, just no. We are not going to let this turn into a national sideshow. You two had better turn tail and get out of here now!”
“They will do no such thing, Officer Gaslight,” another voice echoed into the night.
Everypony stopped and looked to the direction of the new voice. Their gazes trailed up the steps that led from the street up to the front gate lit by two more gas-powered lights. At the top of the steps, behind the few strands of police caution tape, stood a mare. From the way she stood and how she matched the flowers on the fence, Hadi almost could have believed that she had materialized from the flowers themselves. Even her grey mane that wrapped around her horn matched the grey stones at her hooves. The only thing about her that seemed out of place was her eyes that rest behind a pair of large glasses. The light caught on them and Hadi immediately saw two bright flashes of blue. The mare’s gaze, cold as the stone that surrounded her, turned away a moment later and then moved to the spot behind him.
“Stop,” she said as she quirked an eyebrow.
Hadi heard the sound of hoofsteps behind him. The two mares in front of him moved to catch the stallion that moved closer.
“Did you not hear Missus Line, Mister?” the second officer asked.
“That’s his name, Deputy… Meaner,” Hadi answered after glancing down at the officer’s badge.
“Eff Stop, to be precise,” the stallion replied as he adjusted the pork pie hat atop his mane and turned to the other officer. “So, if you don’t mind, Officer Blown Gasket-”
“Gaslight,” the unicorn replied as her muzzle turned to a snarl. “Green Gaslight.”
“Green, huh?” Eff Stop asked as he looked the mint unicorn over. “Eh, the insult still works.”
Officer Gaslight quickly turned to the mare who hadn’t moved from her spot at the top of the steps. “Missus Line, is it really a good idea to let somepony like him in?”
“That will be enough!” The old mare glared at Officer Gaslight just as the command left her lips.
The four ponies at the bottom of the steps listened as Missus Line’s hooves hit each step on the way down. As each step echoed into the night air, Hadi’s attention turned to the mansions on either side of Line House. Even with the flashing lights and the shouts of the officers (not to mention the shouts of Missus Line herself), he didn’t see a single pony in any of the windows. In fact, he could tell that white blinds had been drawn closed on every window in all of the nearby houses.
By the time he turned back to Missus Line, she had already finished descending the steps and was mere inches away from the zebra, though she paid him no mind and was instead staring directly at Officer Gaslight. He could see that her cheeks were swollen and what were once the white of her eyes were now colored a sickly shade of pink.
“If anypony deserves to be here,” she said, motioning to the pegasus. “It’s him.”
The two mares stood eye to eye for a moment, neither wanting to give in to the other side. Hadi heard the sound of Eff Stop’s and the other officer’s feathers ruffling, but beyond that, the moment was silent. Finally, Officer Gaslight sighed and lowered her eyes to the ground.
“All right, Missus Line. But just remember that in light of the… circumstances… I am the acting Captain, and I will make sure that this investigation uncovers the truth.”
Green Gaslight turned towards Hadi and Eff Stop.
“And so help me…” she continued. “I will go to Mayor Mustang if I catch so much as one whiff of contamination by Mister Stop or his—” She stopped as Hadi huffed and shifted his weight to his right side. “Assistant, and not even your role as the sister of Blue Line and the mayor will help you.”
“I thought you had work to do, Officer Gaslight,” Missus Line replied. “Don’t you want to make sure that this situation doesn’t become a sideshow? What’s the term you police are so fond of again? Red ball, is it?”
Officer Gaslight bristled at Missus Line’s last statement. “Come on, Misty.”
“Green, I think we—” Misty Meaner started to protest.
“We will return when the coroner gets here,” Green Gaslight cut her partner off. “We have work to do.”
The two officers turned to the police carriage and strapped themselves in. They both turned to the pair of stallions, snorted, and then took off into the night, the blue and red lights reflecting off of the leaves of trees that lined the street. By the time the lights finally disappeared, Missus Line had already reascended the steps to the front gate. Eff Stop took a few steps up towards Missus Line.
“Fine,” Eff Stop said. “What happened to Blue Line?” Fine Line turned to Hadi and then turned away, and the zebra had to fight every desire to raise an eyebrow again. “Hadi is all right to be here, Fine. He’s helped me these past few days.” Eff Stop bit his lip and shook his head. “…He knows.”
“I see,” Fine Line replied as she looked the zebra from hoof to mane. “Then have your servant get your bags. I’m sure you both will want to—”
“Hadi is not my servant,” Eff Stop interrupted and turned to Hadi before he could react. “He was just a victim of circumstance.”
Fine Line slowly nodded her head before turning and opening the front gate. As it swung open, Hadi could hear the sound of rusted metal as it creaked open and concluded that she must have opened it while the officers were yelling at Eff Stop. He made his way to the carriage and opened the door, but a hoof on his shoulder stopped him before he could continue. He looked behind him and saw Eff Stop with a forlorn look on his face.
“I’m sorry.”
Hadi reached into the carriage and pulled out a bag. “For what?” He shrugged. “Been called worse.”
The zebra set the bag on the ground, only to have Eff Stop’s hoof reach out and grab his before he could pull it away. He looked up and saw that Eff Stop was staring directly into his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “For everything that’s happened.” Eff Stop grabbed the bag and placed it on his back in between his wing blades. “You can leave, if you want. If I were in your hooves I would.”
“Both know that ain’t true,” Hadi replied as he shook his head.
“Then I would suggest moving the coach to the garage,” Eff Stop replied as he took a few more steps up to the gate. “We don’t know what—who is out here.”
“Serious?” Hadi snorted in mock indignation. “We’re in one of the most secure neighborhoods of Tall Tale. After all that’s happened, I ain’t worried ‘bout coachjackers..”
Eff Stop sighed and turned back to Hadi. “You’re right. Coachjackers are not what I am worried about.”
Hadi paused, his eyes slowly widening as the understanding finally reached him. As Eff Stop entered the property and closed the gate, Hadi harnessed himself to the coach and began to trot in the direction of the detached garage to the left of the entrance. He pushed a few vines of wisteria out of the way and continued to pull the coach up to the door. Hadi began to pull the garage door up but it got stuck. As he struggled to lift the garage door the rest of the way, he began to curse to himself.
“Stupid… unicorns and their… stupid…” Hadi huffed as the garage door lifted another inch. “Old houses… and their stupid… doors—ugh!”
Hadi’s hooves flew up and he stood on his hind quarters for a moment as the garage door flew open, reaching the end of the track with a bang. He looked quickly back and forth and then bolted into the darkness within.
The final clicks of the harness freed Hadi from his coach burden for the night, which he pushed with his muzzle the final few inches to the back of the garage. Next to him was a small window that was close enough to the side entrance of the main house that the gaslight attached to the wall created a small block of light that shone onto the cement floor at his feet. He took a single step towards the door, but as soon as his hoof touched the light, the adrenaline he had been feeling since he ran from the Tall Tale Train Station went away and he fell to the floor onto his haunches.
Hadi’s chest heaved and he began to wrap his forelegs around his barrel. He began to cry softly at first, but soon, his sobs echoed through the emptiness of the garage, until he finally turned onto his side and brushed his mane away from his muzzle. As the sobbing grew louder, he clamped his hooves across his muzzle to muffle the sounds. Please Luna, he mentally begged, don’t let them hear me. For a while, Hadi simply heaved on the floor, his sobbing turned mute.
After what seemed like hours to him, Hadi opened his eyes and saw his distorted reflection in a small metal bucket on the floor beneath a small workbench. His green eyes leaped out against his black and white fur, and he knew that he had to turn away or else he would start crying again.
Hadi struggled to lift himself off of the floor and, after a few false starts, he found himself back on all fours standing in front of the door that opened to the walkway between the garage and the kitchen. When he opened the door, a trace of a smile appeared on his muzzle—he could smell the wisteria in front of the garage and the clematis on the fence. He inhaled deeply and stared into the light.
“‘Course I can’t leave,” Hadi muttered darkly to himself before taking his first step. “Not now.”
*****
Two sofas faced each other in the west drawing room. Eff Stop jumped in his seat as something cracked. He turned to the direction of the sound and caught sight of Fine Line, who sat in a large chair directly in front of the fireplace. She had turned the chair towards him, the shadow cast by the chair enveloping her in its darkness. Even then, Eff Stop could still see the tiredness in the mare’s eyes. He coughed and ran his hooves along the cushions.
“I don’t recall coming into this room before.”
The pegasus looked up, hoping for a reaction, but was disappointed when none came. He slowly brought a hoof up to his hat and took it off, placing it neatly by his side. “Fine, where’s Aura?”
Fine Line tilted her head but quickly righted herself. “She’s…”
The mare thought for a moment, unsure of what to say. “She is secure. She’s been taken back to Tall Tale General.” Fine’s muzzle barely moved, but she did manage to raise an eyebrow. “How is your daughter? Royal Blue, was it?”
“Arby’s fine,” Eff Stop replied just as curtly. “April arrived this morning and took her and the other foals back to Ponyville. They should be arriving there within the hour.” Eff Stop shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Speaking of arrivals, when should the coroner be here?”
Fine Line’s horn began to glow with a pale blue aura similar to the color of her eyes, and a moment later, the cabinet door in the corner of the room swung open. The mare levitated a small bottle of whiskey and two glasses, poured the drinks, and then set everything in its place before levitating a glass to Eff Stop. “The coroner in Tall Tale is indisposed for the time being. We had to call for the one in Vanhoover. That was an hour ago. He should be here in another hour, depending on the road conditions.”
“I understand,” he replied. “And where is the late Captain Line?”
Fine Line waved her hoof in the general vicinity of the left. “In the arboretum. The officers already took preliminary photographs and established the scene, so they’ll know if you did anything.”
“You’re taking this surprisingly well, Fine,” Eff Stop said as the mare lifted the glass of whiskey to her muzzle and downed it in one gulp. “Or perhaps you are still getting over the shock.”
Fine Line lowered the glass from her muzzle and stared into it for a moment. The light from the chandelier above them caught on the indentations in the glass. To Eff Stop, it looked as though tiny sparks of white fire flickered around Fine Line’s hoof. He leaned back, the wood floors beneath him creaking under his weight. She looked up from the glass and stared directly at him.
“You want to take a look, don’t you, Mister Stop?” Fine asked quickly without any emotion. “I won’t stop you. But as I said, Green and Misty will know if you so much as move a hair on his mane.” She paused for a moment, as though waiting for him to retreat. “And do be careful as there is no light out there,” she added as though an afterthought.
“Don’t worry,” Eff Stop replied. “I will do nothing to impede neither Officer Gaslight nor Meaner’s investigation.” He turned towards the direction that Fine Line’s hoof pointed. “I just need to piece a few more things together.”
With that, he left the drawing room towards the kitchen. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the bottle of whiskey floating through the air once more.
Eff Stop flipped a switch and the gaslights on either side of the doorway ignited with a quiet whoosh as the flames sparked. The lights moved along the countertops as though they were following him. Just ahead of him was the door to the arboretum. He reached up, twisted the handle, and then pushed the door open. It continued to swing open until it landed against the side of the house with a crash.
The arboretum roof was covered with glass panels, and upon closer inspection, Eff Stop could make out an area of shattered glass near the center. He looked deeper into the darkness and was barely able to determine the shape of the fountain ahead of him. The last time he had been here, he could hear the sound of running water, but now the arboretum was silent. She must’ve turned it off, he thought as he made his way towards the center.
A white chalk outline stood out against the grey stones of the fountain, allowing Eff Stop to see the outline of Blue Line’s body next to it in a crumpled heap. He looked at the location of the body and then turned up to where the ceiling had broken, drawing an imaginary trajectory from the two points up to the master suite on the second floor. He closed his eyes and turned back to the body.
“You bastard,” Eff Stop whispered. “You had to go out the easy way, didn’t you?”
Eff Stop turned to leave, but as soon as he looked towards the door, he saw the figure of Hadi standing in the doorway. Hadi was holding a small lamp in his grip, and Eff Stop could see the zebra’s eyes grow larger and his jaw drop as soon as his focus turned downwards.
“What is it?”
Eff Stop waited for an answer, but when the zebra said nothing, he slowly turned back to the dead body and yelped. Blue Line’s muzzle was contorted into a horrified expression, as though he were howling, and where his eyes should have been, there were now two gaping holes. He saw the slash marks around the eyes and knew immediately that the eyes weren’t simply pulled out, but had been scratched out. Blue Line’s neck had been slashed open in a manner impossible for hooves to do.
In the darkness, these things blended into his dark blue fur, but with Hadi’s light everything became clear for Eff Stop to see. He turned around and pushed Hadi to the side as he shrieked into the house.
“Fine!” Eff Stop yelled upon entering the drawing room, only to see Fine Line still at her place in the chair by the fireplace, sipping another glass of whiskey. “What in Tartarus happened to him?”
Fine Line took another sip before looking at Eff Stop. “Isn’t that the coroner’s job?” she replied with a sneer.
The stallions watched as the mare stood up, took a moment to steady herself, and then made her way through the room, stumbling on a few of the worn, wooden floorboards. Eff Stop and Hadi followed close behind, and soon the three of them were in the foyer. Fine closed the doors to the drawing room and looked up the stairs towards the second floor landing. She reached out to the banister to steady herself, but the railing wobbled and she lost her balance. Hadi leaped forward and caught her before she crashed to the floor.
“Easy,” the zebra said as he helped Fine Line regain her bearings.
Eff Stop moved the banister back and forth. “How did it become loose?”
“Does it really matter?” Fine Line replied. “This house is over a hundred years old. Things here grow… out of place.”
She released herself from Hadi and began to climb the stairs. Every few steps she took, she would turn to the photograph on the wall and looked at a picture of whom Eff Stop assumed must have been her parents. A few steps higher was a photograph of herself and Blue Line, and above that were pictures of Blue Line’s nieces, Aura and Pearly.
“At least my daughters are all right, Stop.”
Fine Line pressed her hoof against the wall beneath the picture of her daughters, and Eff Stop climbed up the stairs until he was next to her. Hadi stayed on the floor and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Are they?” Eff Stop asked. “Remember why they left Ponyville in the first place? The Timberwolf attacks?” Fine Line chuckled darkly and pulled back from the wall. “Daisy? Lily? Rose?”
Fine Line continued her journey up the stairs and eventually reached the landing. She turned around and looked down at the two stallions. “I will be sleeping in the guest room on the second floor. If you two intend to stay, then I suggest you take the upstairs suite.” She pointed to the closed door behind her. “The stairs are through this door. If you could be a gentlecolt, Stop, then could you at least wait to make your decision until after the coroner arrives? Thank you.” Fine Line stumbled across the landing and opened a door to the side. She tumbled in and slammed the door closed behind her.
Eff Stop turned around and looked at Hadi, who was currently admiring the doors on the other side of the foyer, still holding the lamp in his hoof. Eff Stop’s bag rest next to the front door, where he had left it when he first entered the house. He made his way down the stairs and tapped Hadi on the shoulder. “Hadi, could you wait down here in case the coroner comes? I’m going to head upstairs. May as well begin my report, I suppose.”
“‘Course,” Hadi replied. “Need me to lead the way?” He waved the lamp back and forth.
Eff Stop took the handle of the bag with the tip of his wing. He reached out and grabbed the lamp from Hadi’s grasp. “No, I’m good. You just wait for the coroner.”
Hadi nodded and retreated back to the drawing room. As Eff Stop climbed the stairs, he could hear the sound of a glass tumbler clinking behind him,and knew that Hadi was helping himself to the liquor. He smirked and continued up the stairs.
The staircase was narrow, and Eff Stop had to tuck his wings in further just to squeeze through the corridor. When he reached the third floor, he looked around at the paisley wallpaper that lined the entire open floor suite. In one corner was a large bed. Hope Hadi doesn’t mind the floor. Eff Stop continued to look around the room: small bedside tables, a miniature fireplace, a thin door that led to what he assumed was a restroom, a kitchenette, and at the other end of the room was a small desk facing a circular window.
Eff Stop set the lamp on the mantelpiece and carried his bag to the desk. He stared out the window for a moment and looked down at the second story balcony overlooking the arboretum. So this is where you spent your last moments, Blue. He pushed open the window, leaned his head out, and breathed deeply. A faint, sweet smell enveloped his nostrils. Hadi would know the names of the flowers.
Eff Stop tucked his head back in and closed the window once more. He bent over, opened his bag, and rummaged through the contents: notebooks, ink wells, quills, a voice recorder, a camera, rolls of film, and photographs that he already had developed. He pulled out the writing supplies and put them on the desk, but when he looked up, he was surprised to see that the window was once again open. The pegasus reached out to reclose it and tried to find the latch. He pushed the latch up to lock it in place and returned to his writing.
Once everything was set up, he reached down to pick up his recorder. For a moment, he sat still, the only movement being his eyes darting back and forth, as though he was reading a story in midair. He reached across the desk, opened a notebook, and saw the date—September 16. He flipped the notebook to the first blank page and pressed his hoof down on the recorder.
“It has been two—” Eff Stop looked down at his watch and saw that it was now three in the morning, “Scratch that—three days since the events in Ponyville led me to Tall Tale and Vanhoover. I suppose the suicide of Blue Line is as fitting, I suppose, as one could expect from such events. I’ve always said that sometimes the only way to find the real story is to dig deep. For the first time in all of my years of investigative reporting, however, I’m not sure I want to dig any deeper than this.” Eff Stop paused for a moment and stared out the window.
“I have learned that,” the stallion continued, his voice now a whisper. “The deeper you dig, the more darkness you find. If I keep digging, there will be no more light.”
Eff Stop became silent as he stared out the window once more. The empty moon wavered in his line of sight, but he failed to register it. Stars winked into and out of existence. Clouds stumbled through the sky.
Eff Stop jerked at the sound of a thud behind him. He shook his head and realized that the thud was from a knock on the door. The door below opened and he heard the sound of hoofsteps coming up the stairs. Hadi appeared at the top of the stairs and looked around the room.
“Coroner just left, Eff.”
“What?” Eff Stop asked, looking at his watch. “He’s not supposed to be here for another half—” He squinted his eyes when he saw that the time now read four o’clock. “I see. He does fast work.” He looked down at the recorder and realized he had still been recording. He shook his head and clicked the recorder off.
“Eeyup. Zone out there, buddy?” Hadi asked as he trotted over to the bed.
As he placed a hoof on the comforter, Eff Stop started to speak. As soon as the first sound left his muzzle, however, Hadi turned and stared him down, daring him to object. “Uh, I was just going to say that I have some more work to do, so I won’t be getting much sleep, anyway. You know, loose ends and whatnot.”
Hadi quirked an eyebrow, but then continued to climb into bed. He must have been exhausted from the gallop through Tall Tale, because a few minutes later, Eff Stop could already hear his rhythmic breathing beneath the sheet. He tapped his hoof against the desk and began to think about the events that took place.
“Something is missing,” he mumbled to himself.
Eff Stop tapped his hoof on the table. His feathers ruffled. He sighed and reached into his bag to pull out more of the recent files he was working on. He opened a folder marked FOALS. In the folder was the information he had collected on his daughter, Fine Line’s niece, and the other foals that had disappeared. He knew they were on the train back to Ponyville, with the exception of Aura, who was at Tall Tale General. But something still felt out of place about the situation, besides the now missing the dead body that, until a few minutes ago, was lying in a crumpled heap in the arboretum just outside his window.
“Something is missing… something is missing,” he repeated to himself as he tapped his hoof against the table. There was a creaking sound in front of him, and he looked up to see the window swaying back and forth again. “Stupid broken latch,” he said and reached forward. The scent of flowers hit his nostrils again, but this time, he paused.
Flowers, he thought, flowers… The Flower Girls… No.
Eff Stop stared into the night sky for a moment and then looked back down at the broken roof of the arboretum. He thought of Blue Line’s throat and eyes, and at how they had been torn open. Torn open… torn open.
Eff Stop realized too late that he had zoned out again and tumbled to the floor with such force that it sent random documents flying off of the desk. As he regained his composure, he cursed himself and began to pick up the assorted notes that he had taken throughout the past few days. As Eff Stop reached across the floor to the back of the desk, his hoof hit the wall. Instead of the hardness of the wall, however, he felt something soft. He grabbed it and pulled it into the dim light.
It was a notebook, but not one of his own. Eff Stop’s wings ruffled, and he grit his teeth to set them back as he opened it. He soon realized that it was a journal, filled with dates going back years. How is he noting the attack in Ponyville and everything in Vanhoover and Aldergrove, Eff Stop wondered.
The stallion threw the journal onto the desk and scooted back. He clenched his eyes shut, as though pretending the journal in front of him didn’t exist. But then the image of his daughter entered his mind. Arby, he thought, and a ghost of a smile appeared on his muzzle.
Eff Stop pulled the chair back to the desk and flipped through the pages, catching names and dates, until he finally reached the last page. He checked the date again and realized that this had been written only a few hours ago. The swirled ‘i’s made him certain that this was the journal of Blue Line. He slumped back in his chair and looked at everything that he had spread out on the desk. Finally, he reached over to his recorder and opened the disk tray.
Opening his bag, Eff Stop rummaged through its contents once more and pulled out a small plastic bag that held all of his used tapes. He flipped through them until he came across the one marked AURA. Eff Stop placed it in the recorder and pressed play, his eyes darting back and forth from the files as he listened. He glanced at the final journal entry one more time.
Eff Stop’s gaze darted back and forth again as he listened to the recording.
After the events that took place here in Ponyville, the deaths of Daisy, Lily Valley, and Rose have been ruled as a timberwolf attack. Upon further investigation, I have discovered a few inconsitencies. How did the attack happen in the middle of town? Why didn’t any other ponies notice said timberwolves? Where is the physical evidence of timberwolf activity?
The pegasus tapped his hoof against the desk again as the recording of his own voice continued.
In addition, on that same night, I was called to pick up my own daughter from a slumber party after an accident left her with unidentifiable scratch marks. This leads me to believe that—
Eff Stop stopped the recording and glanced over at the opened folder. He read and reread the names of the foals, finally stopping at Aura’s name. No, Eff Stop thought, that’s ridiculous. There’s no way…
The stallion’s thoughts trailed off, and his eyes glazed over. A single word left his muzzle.
“Sakinah.”
