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HUGO had really come into his own over the past year. His pest control business had flourished and he became friends with some of the local police officers at the bar. However, he had been at a standstill for weeks with the hunting business. He kept finding clues that led him to one idea, and more clues for another idea, but none would go anywhere. Possibly finding the true history of the Quileute wolves was his first big break in a long time and he knew it would lead him somewhere bigger, but he had no inkling if the research was true. Nevertheless, he had faith that he could unravel the mystery of Forks, and this might be his first step in doing this.
He also had a strong intuition that vampire rats were haunting the outskirts of Idaho a year ago, and that obviously went nowhere. So maybe he couldn't trust his instinct that much.
Sage usually found him holed up in his basement every night. Sometimes he would forget to make dinner, and Sage would have to bring him down whatever mediocre meal she came up with that night. (She was quite good at making grilled cheeses and spaghetti, but anything besides that was uncharted territory.)
That night, she hobbled down the staircase to her dad's basement, carrying a steaming bowl of spaghetti, topped off with some already-made tomato sauce from the freezer that she hoped was heated enough. Hugo was seated at his desk, surrounded by three monitors that had a different website up on each of them. He usually dedicated one fully to the forum site that he checked on the daily, Hunters Anonymous, while the other two were for research. He had also installed green lights around the cellar, which made it even more terrifying to go down, and placed vials of different, weird things that he bought around the room. For instance, he got conned into buying "the Eye of a Cyclops" at an Oregon Hunters Convention that he had dragged Sage to. Needless to say, it wasn't really the Eye of a Cyclops – more like, a fake eye you could buy at a party store.
Sage stopped at the end of the stairs, balancing on the balls of her feet as she watched her dad hunch over a notebook and scribble down God knows what. Breathing in sharply through her nose, she approached him, "Hey, dad –"
