Noah POV

I stride back into the packhouse.

My parents are waiting in the living room. Their faces turn toward me, questions in their eyes.

"Noah?" My mother's voice is soft. Cautious. "Are you okay?"

I don't answer. Can't answer.

"I need to see Jake. Now."

My father moves to block my path. "What does Jake have to do with any of this?"

I stop. Meet his gaze.

"The trial. Six years ago. Everyone said Zoe was lying." My voice is flat. Cold. "Did ...