Lynn's POV

The Ice Moon enforcement building is stark. Fluorescent lights. Grey walls. The smell of coffee and tension.

I sit in an interview room. Warren's blanket wrapped around my shoulders—thick, warm, smelling of pine and pack.

The investigator across from me is professional. Gentle. She asks questions. I answer.

"Can you describe the moment you realized you'd been drugged?"

"When did you send the text message to Alpha Warren?"

"Did either Shirley ...