Rafael's words settled uneasily over the room.
"This morning, I received the letter," he continued, fingers tapping once against the folded parchment as if to anchor himself. "It was delivered at the boundary. I was instructed to hand it over to the vampires. And that was when the second vampire collapsed."
A quiet, collective inhale followed.
"This sounds very fishy, don't you think?" Moran said at last, voice low and sharp.
Rafael nodded. "Nothing about this feels coincidental."
Lydia leaned back in her chair, arms folding slowly. "A vampire collapses on our soil. Then another, right as a sealed letter arrives. A letter that conveniently explains everything." She tilted her head. "That's either astonishingly bad luck for us … or deliberate design."
"And we don't have the luxury of assuming the latter without proof," Elijah added.
"That's the problem," Rafael said. "We can't accuse the vampires outright. Not without starting a fire we won't be able to put out."
