Single Mother of a Werewolf Baby
Chapter 92: No One Named Eleanor Whitmore

Chapter 92: No One Named Eleanor Whitmore

For the next few minutes, Fiona carefully explained the nature of Earth-related abilities, including how they manifested in combat and how Elder Bedivere would assist Ethan in preparing for the upcoming duel. Earth users were versatile and dangerous... able to manipulate terrain, control vibrations, and even generate rock armour-like defences. The most formidable ones could harden their bodies to the level of steel using techniques passed down by the Fenroth Clan.

Although Ethan had no precise information about Lucian’s abilities, Fiona believed that with the right preparation, he could respond to any form of attack. She emphasized the importance of engaging in a battle of attrition. If Lucian relied on Fenroth’s methods to bolster his endurance, Ethan had to make sure not to give him a chance to land a blow on him.

Once the strategy was laid out, Fiona handed Ethan an envelope with the Council’s golden emblem.

"This came in the morning," she said. "Read it carefully."

Ethan opened the letter and scanned the printed words with growing interest. It was an official duel invitation, issued and signed by Matthias Graventhal, the Arbiter of the Werewolf Council. The letter outlined the terms of the duel... date, venue, combat conditions, and some clause.

He frowned. "Why did they schedule the duel one month later? What’s the catch?"

Fiona rested her elbows on the armrest, lacing her fingers thoughtfully. "I suspect Lucian negotiated for this delay. Likely, someone promised him rare training resources... possibly even advanced Fenroth techniques after issuing the challenge. One month is enough to sharpen an already competent warrior."

She paused, her gaze turning sharp. "But what concerns me more is this condition... they’ve limited the audience to those under one hundred years old. It’s absurd. That clause effectively bans most of our clan’s experienced warriors from attending."

Ethan understood immediately. "It’s a political move. If we object, they’ll twist the narrative. Claim we’re trying to intimidate Lucian by bringing powerful elders. But if we accept, they control the crowd and environment."

He exhaled slowly and added, "I think I should attend the duel alone. You can arrange for a neutral Council member to spectate. Their presence would deter any foul play behind the Arbiter’s back."

Fiona raised an eyebrow but eventually nodded. "If you’re fine with this, I won’t object. I’ll arrange for someone trustworthy to be there. We’ll accept all the terms."

Just then, Ethan’s phone buzzed. A message lit up his screen:

"Whitmore family has a meeting tonight."

He looked up at Fiona. "I need to attend to something urgent. I’ll begin training from tomorrow night."

Fiona waved him off. "Go. I’ll inform you if anything changes."

***

That night, under a sky dusted with starlight and the pale crescent moon hanging in the west, a black sedan entered the Whitmore estate. Inside the car were James Clifford and his mother, Phoebe Baker. It was Phoebe’s first official visit to the Whitmores since James’s engagement to Jennifer Whitmore.

William Whitmore, his wife Jeanne Baker, and Jennifer stood at the entrance to receive them. The family exchanged greetings, but it was clear the atmosphere wasn’t one of celebration. Tension rippled just beneath the surface.

After a brief chat, William invited them to the dining hall for dinner. But James declined politely.

"There’s a serious matter we need to discuss first," he said.

The group moved to William’s private study... a large oak-panelled room filled with leather-bound books, vintage clocks, and an antique globe near the fireplace.

James sat forward; his hands clasped tightly as he began.

"I met Eleanor at a recent banquet," he said. "She was with Edward Miller. The chairman of Miller Group. I approached her, but she didn’t recognize me. I think she had memory loss and forgot everything."

He hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "That made me suspicious, so I hired a private investigator to dig deeper. What he found is... alarming."

Everyone leaned in.

James continued, "The detective confirmed that Eleanor and Edward have only been seen together once. No further interactions. But here’s where things get strange... he couldn’t find any trace of Eleanor Whitmore in the system."

Jennifer frowned. "What do you mean, ’no trace’?"

"Literally," James said. "Her social media accounts are gone. The detective checked Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn... nothing. You can search her name online now to see."

William and Jennifer took out their mobile phones and searched, but there was no one named Eleanor Whitmore. All the social media accounts Jennifer knew were gone, and even the news about her from back then couldn’t be found.

"The detective checked government records next," James continued. "There’s no birth certificate, no NHS records, no school or university records, no passport, driver’s license, or even a bank account under the name Eleanor Whitmore. He even looked into things like her Harrods Rewards Card and Ivy Club Membership I knew... both gone."

Jeanne gasped softly. "That’s... impossible."

"It gets worse," James said grimly. "He visited Eleanor’s old school. Turns out, there was a fire accident three years ago. It destroyed several years’ worth of physical documents... including Eleanor’s class."

Jennifer, her face pale, said, "But what about the missing person’s report we filed? That was official."

James nodded. "Gone. The police database doesn’t show it anymore. The report vanished. Even newspaper archives have been systematically wiped out. Libraries that kept back issues of the local papers were robbed at different times. The thieves took every copy mentioning Eleanor’s kidnapping."

"That’s absurd," William muttered. "Surely this is just... a coincidence?"

"No, it’s coordinated," James replied. "The detective believes someone has gone to extraordinary lengths to erase Eleanor’s existence. He’s pulling out of the case. Said it’s beyond his pay grade now."

Phoebe, who had remained silent throughout, finally spoke. "Does it matter who’s behind this? Honestly, I think it’s a good thing that Eleanor has lost her memories."

Everyone turned toward her. The calmness in her voice was chilling.

"If she ever finds out our involvement in her rape case..." Phoebe’s voice trailed off. Her eyes locked on William’s.

No one said a word. A wave of silence washed over the room.

A cold shiver ran down Jennifer’s spine. Jeanne covered her mouth in horror.

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