She told him about the bad reviews and hang-up phone calls and the appointment with Travis.
His eyes narrowed at each new detail. “I can’t imagine anyone saying those things about you. It’s clear that you deeply care about animals—and people.”
Her cheeks flushed at the sincerity in his voice. “Thank you. But someone doesn’t appear to see it that way.”
For the first time since Hadley had moved here, she had to ask herself: Was coming to Blue Ridge Hollow a mistake?
The kennel hummed with its usual rhythm as Max moved down the rows. He checked latches and topped off water bowls. The routine anchored him the way it always did.
As he did, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
Max frowned and pulled it out, glancing at the screen. Unknown number.
A small knot formed in his stomach as he stepped toward the far end of the kennel, away from Hadley. “Be right back.”
Then he opened the message.
You act like you’re good and noble. I know you’re not. I know what you did to that man five years ago. If your parole officer finds out you broke your terms, you’ll end up back in prison. Is that what you want?
Max went still.
The noise of the kennel seemed to dull around him as the words sank in. His jaw tightened, and for a moment he simplystared at the screen. His pulse picked up in a way he couldn’t control.
He forced himself to type a reply.
Who is this?
The reply came almost immediately.
Wouldn’t you like to know?
Another message followed before he could respond.
No one will trust you if they know the truth. Your life will be destroyed. Just wanted to remind you in case you forgot.
Max’s grip tightened around the phone, his thumb hovering before he typed again.
What do you want?
He waited.
CHAPTER 12
No responses came.
Max’s screen stayed unchanged, the thread going silent as suddenly as it had begun. Whoever had sent the messages was done—for now.
Max exhaled slowly, but the tension didn’t ease. If anything, it settled deeper, spreading through him with a quiet, unwelcome certainty.
Someone knew about his past.
Not rumors. Not guesses. Enough detail to make it real again—to drag his past into the present and threaten everything he’d worked to build.
He slipped the phone back into his pocket, his thoughts already turning, trying to piece together who might have sent it. The possibilities weren’t endless, but they weren’t few either.
In a town like this, people talked. They speculated. They judged.
But these messages felt different—deliberate and pointed, like someone had been watching and waiting for the right moment.
