Chapter 226 The Blanket

Chapter 226: Chapter 226 The Blanket

"Why are all my photos stored back here?" Eira asked.

Gwen glanced up from the box. "That photographer, Lainey, said she was making a documentary. She’s been asking about children who grew up here and went on to do something with their lives."

She gave Eira a small smile.

"You’re the biggest success story we have. But you asked me to keep your information private, so I put everything away. I didn’t want her digging through your records or catching anything on camera."

A chill brushed the back of Eira’s neck.

It sounded as if Lainey had been asking about her.

Then again, a documentary covered people as well as places. Lainey’s questions were not suspicious on the surface.

"What has she been doing since she arrived?" Eira asked.

"Mostly talking to people around the orphanage. She says she’s collecting stories for the film." Gwen frowned. "To be honest, it feels less like a fundraising video and more like she’s looking for something."

"What kind of something?"

"Nothing specific enough to make me stop her. If she had crossed a line, someone would’ve come to me."

Eira nodded, though the answer did little to ease her mind.

She turned back to the storage box and lifted a stack of old photographs. Beneath them, she found a small bundle sealed in a clear plastic bag.

Inside was a piece of blue-striped cotton.

Eira frowned. "What is this?"

Gwen went still.

"That’s the blanket you were wrapped in when they found you."

Eira looked up. "Mine?"

Gwen nodded.

Every child brought to the orphanage had their clothes washed, labeled, and stored. Most of those items were ordinary. This one was not.

Eira opened the bag carefully.

The cotton was soft with age. Tiny airplanes had been stitched between the blue stripes.

"That was expensive fabric back then," Gwen said quietly. "High-end baby clothes. We thought your family might have lost you by accident instead of leaving you behind."

Eira ran her thumb over one of the faded airplanes.

"We spent fifteen days checking with every neighboring Pack along the border," Gwen continued. "We asked about missing pups, searched the shelters, and contacted the regional records office. Nothing came up."

She hesitated.

"There was one strange detail. The blanket was made for a boy."

Eira’s head snapped up. "A boy?"

"The pattern, the size, even the way it was sewn. Everything suggested it had been bought for a male pup."

Gwen lowered herself into the old office chair.

"You know the rest. You grew up here, worked harder than anyone, and built a life far beyond this town. You never forgot the Omega House either. You’ve been giving back ever since you had the means."

Eira set the blanket down and wrapped her arms around Gwen.

"Thank you," she whispered. "For taking me in. For giving me a home."

Gwen patted her back.

"All right. Don’t make me cry before breakfast."

Eira pulled away, smiling through the tightness in her throat.

Gwen’s expression softened. "Do you want to look for your family?"

Eira glanced at the storage box.

"We kept the paper records. There isn’t much, but it’s a place to start."

Eira pressed her lips together.

"If the answers are there, I’ll find them."

That was not quite an answer, and Gwen knew it.

"If I was left on purpose, then there’s nothing to chase," Eira said. "But if I was lost, my family may still be looking for me."

She folded the blanket back into the plastic bag.

"I just need to give them a reason to find me."

Gwen reached for her hand. "You don’t have to prove that you’re worth finding."

"I know."

But knowing that and believing her family would find her were two different things.

People searched for what they remembered. If her family had lost a little boy, they might never think to look for the woman she had become.

Eira glanced toward the dining hall, where Lainey was still filming the children.

Lainey was the only person who had recently gone out of her way to learn about Eira’s past.

--

In Palo Alto, Alpha Killian took a screenshot of the address Eira had sent him and forwarded it to Lila without saying a word.

A voice message came back almost at once.

"You’re so immature."

"You’re the immature one!"

Alpha Killian ignored the rest of her rant.

His flight landed a short time later. Natalie had arranged a driver, but Alpha Killian waved him off and took the wheel himself.

While he drove, he sent Eira his itinerary. She was already reviewing the information Gwen had given her about Sam, including possible routes, places to stay, and transportation options.

Eira could handle rough conditions. She had traveled alone before and knew how to take care of herself.

She was only worried about Alpha Killian.

After sending Alpha Killian the details, Eira questioned the longtime staff.

The gatekeeper, kitchen staff, and dorm supervisors gave her the same answer. Lainey had asked about the orphanage’s history and whether any former residents had gone on to become successful or appeared in the news.

Most had told her little. One of the nursery workers pulled Eira aside.

"I mentioned you," she admitted. "Miss Gwen showed me an article about your work and asked me to read it to the kids. One of them recognized you as Big Sister Eira, so I told Lainey you grew up here and now work in Palo Alto."

"When?"

"Three days ago."

"Did she ask anything else?"

"Not really. She thanked me and went back to playing with the children. They adore her."

That answer should have reassured Eira. Instead, it left her with more questions.

Eira thanked the woman and stepped back into the hallway.

"Oh, and she was asking about the old records earlier," the woman added. "I saw her heading toward the archive room."

Eira stopped. "The records room?"

"She said she wanted some background for the documentary. I didn’t think much of it."

Eira thanked her and headed down the hall.

The archive door stood partly open. Inside, Lainey was filming the faded photographs and rows of filing cabinets. When she heard Eira approach, she lowered the camera and turned with a pleasant smile.

"Eira. I was just looking for you."

"Were you?"

Lainey’s smile stayed in place, but her grip tightened around the camera.

"I wanted footage of the older part of the building. It has character."

"The records room?"

"I was curious."

"Can I see what you filmed?"

Lainey studied her for a moment, then handed over the camera.

"Sure."

Eira skimmed the footage. It showed the grounds, the children, and a few old photographs. Nothing private or obviously invasive.

She returned the camera.

"You’ve asked a lot about the orphanage’s history," Eira said. "You also wanted to know whether any former residents became successful."

Lainey blinked once, then recovered.

"History gives the documentary a stronger story. A successful former resident gives people someone to connect with. It’s good publicity."

"Someone told you about me."

Lainey gave a small nod. "Someone did."

"If you plan to use my name or image, get permission first. The last outlet that interviewed me was a national news organization. My work involves federal security clearance, so people take the handling of my information seriously."

Lainey’s smile froze before smoothly returning.

"Thanks for the warning. I wouldn’t dream of crossing a line."

"Good luck with the shoot."

Eira turned and walked away.

The moment she disappeared around the corner, Lainey’s smile vanished. She had come to this remote stretch of Pack territory looking for something useful. Most of the staff had kept quiet, but she had finally learned that Eira had grown up there.

Then Eira had shown up and shut down the conversation.

Wasn’t she supposed to be busy dealing with Serena and the lawsuit?

Lainey pulled out her phone and called Serena.

She needed to know what had changed.