Chapter 5

Noah Reed arrived before sunrise with a ladder strapped to the roof of his truck. Frost silvered the pasture and whitened every loose board on the barn. I stood beside the open doors with the Mercer report folded inside my coat pocket, as if hiding it could make its numbers less real.

Noah pulled on a pair of work gloves. "Show me the worst place first."

"I don't know which place that is."

His gaze moved over the sagging roofline. He didn't comment.

That was worse.

I led him through the north stalls, where the smell of hay and old…