The morning mist still clung to the trees as Red stepped outside her grandmother’s cabin, Peter’s phone pressed to her ear.

  “You sure you’re up for this?” his voice came through, sleep still tangled in it.

  “I’m not exactly out here bird-watching, Pan,” she replied, pulling her hoodie up. “I found him.”

  Peter exhaled sharply. “You found Elliott?”

  She glanced at the GPS pin on her screen. “There’s a sheep farm about thirty minutes north of here. Owner’s name? Elliott Shepherd.”

  Peter let out a low whistle. “He really leaned into the irony, huh?”

  “I’m headed there now,” Red said. “Can you meet me?”

  “I’ll be there in twenty.”

  Elliott’s sheep farm wasn’t much—just a stretch of fenced pasture, an old red barn, and a weathered farmhouse that looked like it hadn’t seen a renovation since the Grimm Brothers were in diapers.

  Red arrived first, parking just off the dirt road. A few sheep meandered in the field, chewing lazily.

  The front door creaked open before she could knock.

  Elliott Shepherd stepped onto the porch, blinking at her. He looked older than the last photo she’d seen—grayer, thinner, like life had been gnawing at him for years.

  He wore a flannel shirt, jeans tucked into boots, and had a length of straw sticking out from the corner of his mouth.

  When he saw her, he froze.

  “Red Riding Hood,” he muttered. “I’ll be damned.”

  “That’s one way to say hello,” she said.

  Peter pulled up behind her and joined her at the steps, giving Elliott a polite nod. “Mr. Shepherd.”

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  Elliott eyed them both, but his gaze lingered on Red.

  “You bring the law,” he said flatly. “You trying to get me killed?”

  Red crossed her arms. “Depends. You planning to lie to us again?”

  Elliott sighed. “You better come inside.”

  The farmhouse smelled like black coffee, hay, and wood smoke. Elliott poured three mugs, then sat at the chipped kitchen table, staring into his own like it held answers.

  Red didn’t wait long. “You saw something back then. Something that scared you enough to disappear.”

  Peter added, “And we think you didn’t tell the Pygs everything.”

  Elliott was quiet for a long time. Then—

  “I didn’t lie,” he said. “I just didn’t tell the whole truth.”

  He leaned back in his chair, eyes distant.

  “I saw the Wolf that night. Big. Fast. Wrong.”

  He rubbed his hands together slowly. “But he wasn’t alone. Not at first.”

  Red leaned forward. “Who was with him?”

  Elliott’s jaw tightened. “Not who. What.”

  He looked at Peter. Then back at Red.

  “You ever hear of the Fairies?”

  Peter blinked. “Like… magical godmothers and glitter dust?”

  Elliott barked a dry laugh. “Try blood money and body bags.”

  Red’s brow furrowed. “You worked for them.”

  Elliott nodded once. “Ran errands. Pickups. Drops. Nothing big. Kept my nose clean, or so I thought.”

  He stared out the window. “The Fairy Godmother—she runs it all. No one’s ever seen her face, but everyone in the game knows the name. She’s got pull in every major port and pocket in this town. And back then? The Wolf was her fixer.”

  Peter straightened. “You’re saying the Wolf worked for her?”

  “Did,” Elliott corrected. “Until he didn’t.”

  He tapped the side of his mug. “Something snapped. He started… enjoying it. The blood. The fear. He stopped waiting for orders. Stopped cleaning up messes. Started making them.”

  Red’s stomach twisted.

  “They tried to leash him,” Elliott continued. “Didn’t work. So they cut him loose. But me? I saw him. That night. In the woods.”

  His voice lowered.

  “And I recognized him.”

  Red’s heart thudded. “Who is he?”

  Elliott looked her dead in the eye.

  “I’m not saying his name. Not here. Not now.”

  He stood and paced the room. “You wanna know why I didn’t tell the cops? Because if I did, and it led back to the Fairy Godmother—she’d send people to silence me. Not just me. My brother. My nephew. Everyone.”

  He looked at her, haunted.

  “You think the Wolf is scary? The Fairy Godmother raised him. She’s worse.”

  They didn’t press him after that.

  Not yet.

  Red and Peter stood on the porch a few minutes later, watching the sheep graze in the distance.

  Peter turned to her. “That was… a lot.”

  Red nodded. “We were chasing a killer. Turns out we’re dealing with an entire syndicate.”

  Peter’s jaw clenched. “We need to get this to Hook and Hunter.”

  Red’s fingers gripped the railing. “No. Not yet. I need time. I need proof. If the Fairy Godmother really is behind this… she’s not going to go down easy.”

  Peter sighed. “You know I’ll back your play. But we can’t do this alone.”

  Red looked out over the woods, where shadows danced beneath the trees.

  “I don’t think we have a choice.”