Lila stepped forward again, Scout padding faithfully beside her. The child looked steadier now, her silence deliberately suspended until the right moment. Merritt felt the room tighten, the unspoken understanding that something final waited just ahead.
“Lila,” Cooper began gently, “you saw Jacob that night, correct?” The girl nodded. “And he left before the fire?” Another nod—simple, unflinching. Merritt noted the composure in her eyes; children, he thought, often remember truths adults edit out.