I don’t need her.
I don’t need her kid upstairs with his sad eyes and bitey dinosaur.
I sure as hell don’t need Legend looking at me like I just volunteered to be the lead clown in a circus made of custody threats and possible sister blood.
Amelia lifts her chin. “I’m sorry.”
The whole room seems to groan without making a sound.
Sophie closes her eyes.
Legend says, “Stop apologizing.”
Amelia flinches.
His jaw tightens because he sees it. “I mean, you didn’t bring him here on purpose.”
“No, but he followed me. He’s your problem now.”
“He was my problem the second he stood at my gate.”
“Because of who my father might be.”
“Because of who you are.”
She doesn’t know what to do with that.
Neither does Legend.
The moment hangs awkward and raw until Oaks comes in, rain dripping from his beard.
“He’s gone,” Oaks says. “For now.”
“For now,” Amelia repeats.
Oaks looks at her. Something in his expression gentles in the smallest possible way. “He ain’t getting through that gate.”
“You don’t know him.”
“No,” Oaks says. “He don’t know us either.”
Royal slides in behind him like he materialized from the night itself. “He will learn.”
Amelia turns toward him, and I see her actually process what that means.
The violence in the room.
The willingness.
The lack of hesitation.
Her fear shifts shape.
Not fear of Jeremy now.
Fear of us.
She steps back.