She won the council vote. Twelve to zero. She thought the hard part was over.

Then she found the note.

Four words. Unsigned. In handwriting she did not recognise: The document you found is not the only copy. The other one is older. And it says something different.

Clara Vale is the keeper of the wolf historical record. She built the case that earned that recognition document by document, source by source, across six weeks of the most precise archival work of her professional life. She is very good at this. She knows she is very good at it.

Which is exactly why a note suggesting her documentary foundation is incomplete is the kind of problem that will not let her sleep.

She has twenty-seven days before the council recognition becomes permanent. Twenty-seven days to find a document that may or may not exist, held by a man who voted yes on her recognition and then handed her an unsigned card and walked away, whose name appears in a pre-1960 penmanship style she has tracked to a land holding registered under the same name in 1847, 1891, 1932, 1967, and 2003.

She is going to need a bigger ledger section.

And then she is going to need to find out why her grandmother's handwriting is on the oldest document in an eight-hundred-year-old collection. And what the keeper before her decided to bury. And what the pack that trusted her deserves to know about where their fracture actually started.

Memory has teeth. Clara Vale is not afraid of them. She is the one who decides what gets kept.

Precise, compelling, and impossible to put down. Nobody Warned Me That Memory Has Teeth is the second book in the Chronicles of Chaos and Destiny, following the librarian who organises everything and is only now finding out what she has been keeping all along.