Chapter 129

EMILIA

It takes a solid few minutes to convince Liam that no, I’m not freezing to death, yes, it’s all in his head, and finally, the dagger: “What are you, my dad?” That one shuts him up fast. He looks so horrified I almost feel bad—almost. Instead, he sulks about his “misplaced concern” and how I “don’t care about his feelings” (still not sure how the two are connected, but okay). Eventually, he gives up the bit and finally leads me toward the backyard.

The bass-heavy music leaking out from the porch is one thing, but actually stepping into Owen’s backyard is dizzying. It’s a mess of bodies and voices—men I assume are his teammates, women balancing paper plates, a couple kids darting between picnic tables. It feels like walking into a different world, one that’s all loud laughter, clinking bottles, and the faint smell of charcoal.

Before I can even process the crowd, a tiny shriek cuts through the noise. “Uncle Liam!”

One of those kids, a tiny girl with bla