They packed in silence, Maren gathering her few belongings while Tristan secured the safe house. Within twenty minutes they were outside, boots crunching through snow that reached mid-calf in places.
The drive back to Hollow Oak took longer than usual. Drifts had buried the path, forcing them to break trail through powder that grabbed at the tires.
Her shadows spread wide, testing the air for any sign of the doppelgänger. The construct hadn't appeared last night, hadn't tested their wards after that first supernatural assault. Either it was conserving energy or planning something worse.
Hollow Oak looking looked like a snow globe with its pristine white coating everything, icicles glittering from eaves, smoke rising from chimneys into pale blue sky. Beautiful and deceptively peaceful.
"Stay close," Tristan said as they got out. "Don't engage with anyone who tries to provoke you."
"I know how to handle hostile crowds."
"I know. But humor me anyway."
People were out clearing snow, shoveling paths between buildings. Conversations died when they appeared, faces turning to track their progress. Not openly hostile like before, but wary. Watchful. Waiting to see what the Council would decide.
Rufus nodded from the Mercantile doorway. Twyla stood outside the Griddle & Grind, her features creased with concern. Most others just stared, weighing judgment they'd already made.
The Council Hall loomed ahead, its doors standing open despite the cold. Maren's steps slowed as they approached, dread pooling in her stomach.
"Whatever happens in there," Tristan said quietly, "you're walking out. Understand?"
She nodded because arguing would be pointless.
They climbed the steps together. Inside, the hall was warmer but no less imposing. Emmett stood near the front with Miriam, both wearing expressions that mixed concern with resignation. Bram occupied his usual position, satisfaction barely concealed behind professional neutrality.
"Officer Ash. Miss Pitch. Thank you for coming on short notice."
"We were snowed in," Tristan said. "Safe house is two miles out. Storm made travel impossible until this morning."
"So we heard." Bram stepped forward. "Yet here you are, together, after three days with nothing to show for your investigation."
"We have leads?—"
"Leads aren't evidence. Leads aren't proof." Bram's pale eyes fixed on Maren. "The deadline was today. You failed to meet it."
"The weather—" Tristan started.
"Is irrelevant. The Council gave you three days. Three days to prove Miss Pitch's innocence. Instead you've spent that time isolated with her, compromising your objectivity, while incidents continue plaguing this town."
"What incidents?" Maren asked. "Nothing's happened since the fountain."
"Because you've been locked away. The moment you return, I suspect we'll see more accidents, more shadow signatures, more fear." Bram turned to address the room. "I move that we bind Miss Pitch's magic pending further investigation. For the safety of Hollow Oak and its residents."
"Denied," Emmett said flatly. "We're not binding anyone without proof of guilt."
"Then I move for immediate exile. She's had two years here. That's generous considering what she is."
"Also denied."
"Then what do you propose?" Bram's voice rose slightly. "We wait for someone to die before taking action?"
"I propose we give Officer Ash the extension he's requesting." Miriam's voice cut through the argumentative male’s. "The weather was extraordinary. No one could've predicted we'd be hit with supernatural storms strong enough to trap people for days."
"Convenient excuse," Bram muttered.
"It's not an excuse, it's fact." Emmett crossed his arms. "Tristan, what's your lead?"
"The Nightwell Locket. A blood-bound artifact from Maren's family line capable of creating shadow doppelgängers." Tristan pulled out his notebook. "It explains the signature mimicry, the incidents when Maren has alibi, everything. We believe it'shidden at Moonmirror Lake. Give us one more day to search and we'll end this."
