Torres looked uncomfortable.
"Breaking and entering is a felony, but proving he did it versus just walking up to your door is tough without video."
"So they just get away with it?"
"I'll file a report. Detective will follow up. But, Mr. Flint, you should consider staying somewhere else until this is over."
I spent that night at Emma's apartment in Fort Collins.
Slept on her couch with my phone charging next to me and the baseball bat leaning against the wall.
February 6th, three days before trial, Lydia called with an update.
"The title company flipped. Rocky Mountain Title is cooperating with our investigation. They're admitting they knew the adverse possession claim was shaky but approved it anyway because Preston paid them $45,000 under the table. They're giving us everything. Emails, payment records, recorded phone calls."
"So we have them."
"We have them. But Dakota, Cassandra knows it, too. Her attorney called this morning begging for a settlement conference."
"What did you say?"
"I said we'll see them in court."
The silence on the line felt heavy.
"Three more days," Lydia said. "Stay safe, stay quiet, and get ready to watch everything burn."
I hung up and stared out Emma's apartment window at the snow falling on Fort Collins.
Somewhere out there, Cassandra and Preston were planning their last desperate move.
I just hoped I'd see it coming.
February 9th, trial day.
I put on the same suit I'd worn to the first hearing, still too tight in the shoulders, and drove to Boulder with Emma riding shotgun.
She'd insisted on coming, said I needed family there.
Tyler had wanted to come, too, but he couldn't afford to miss work. Not after the PI incident nearly cost him his job.
The courthouse parking lot was chaos.
Two news vans, Channel 9 and a local Boulder station, had cameras set up on the steps.
Patricia Hughes spotted me and waved, but I kept my head down.
Lydia had been clear. No media comments before trial.
Inside, Courtroom 3C was packed.
All 96 families from Ridgeline Heights had received notices about the trial, and at least 40 of them had shown up.
I recognized Sarah Chen sitting three rows back.
The woman who'd called me crying about her forever home.
She looked at me with an expression I couldn't read, hope maybe, or terror that she'd lose everything.
Cassandra and Preston sat at the defense table with their attorneys, Brian Keer and Diane Kelso, plus two more lawyers I didn't recognize.
They'd brought in reinforcements.
Cassandra wore a cream-colored suit that probably cost $5,000.
Her face was perfectly composed, but I could see her hands shaking when she reached for her water glass.
Judge Ramirez entered.
We all stood.
"Before we begin," the judge said, looking over her reading glasses at the packed gallery, "I want to make something clear. This is a court of law, not a circus. Anyone who disrupts proceedings will be removed. Understood?"
Murmurs of agreement.
"Ms. Chen, opening statement."