Sign the Papers Mr. Langford novel Chapter 331

After Mrs. Higgins left, Wren Whitaker stood at the neighborhood entrance for a long time.

The wind rustled through the sycamore trees along the street, carrying a hint of dampness. She gripped the slip of paper Mrs. Higgins had written for her before leaving, the surface slightly crumpled under her fingertips.

Swift Logistics.

License plate ending in 726.

The Southside Storage Facility.

The words seemed so insignificant, as light as a speck of dust brushed from an old woman's memory. But Wren knew that the longer the dust settled, the heavier the secrets buried beneath it became.

Phoebe Price's call came in just as she reached her car.

"Did you get it?" Rapid keyboard typing echoed in the background.

Wren pulled her car door open but didn't immediately get in. She placed the paper on the steering wheel, snapped a photo, and sent it over.

"Three weeks after Vivian passed away, a moving company came to the house. Mrs. Higgins remembers the boxes being packed meticulously. The desk and cabinets were all taken away. She said the license plate ended in 726, the company was called Swift Logistics, and everything was sent to Southside."

The line went quiet for a few seconds.

"The third week?" Phoebe lowered her voice. "Weren't you still arranging the funeral then?"

Wren stared at the streetlights through the windshield, her eyelashes fluttering slightly.

Back then, everyone had told her that her mother had been sick for too long, that her passing was a relief.

Quentin Whitaker had been busy dealing with the condolences. Lydia Whitaker had stood in the living room wearing a plain dress, her eyes perfectly reddened with practiced grief. Willow Whitaker had been little at the time, holding onto Lydia's hand and timidly calling Wren's name.

She had stood vigil at the cemetery, tending to the floral tributes until her fingers ached, feeling so numb she couldn't even voice her tears.

As it turned out, right while she was grieving, Vivian's desk was being hauled out of the second floor.

"I'm here." Seeing she hadn't spoken, Phoebe called out softly. "Wren?"

Wren slid into the driver's seat and rolled the window down a fraction.

The snakes had already been startled.

They just hadn't shown their fangs yet.

At four in the afternoon, messages from Phoebe popped up one after another.

Swift Logistics was originally registered as Swift Domestic Transport Services. Deregistered fifteen years ago.

The license plate ending in 726 belonged to a box truck. The plate info is incomplete, but there's a route logged in the old transport records.

The Whitaker Estate to Channing Road Storage Depot.

Date: The Wednesday of the third week after Vivian Vance passed away.

Wren sat in a small conference room at Stellaris, an addendum for The Institutional Review Board spread out in front of her. The words on the paper remained, but her entire focus was locked on her phone screen.

Phoebe sent another screenshot.