"Young man," Grandpa Persius said, his voice calm yet edged with quiet authority, "why do you address only me? Amy is here as well."
His sharp gaze flicked from Liam to his granddaughter, lingering just long enough to make the tension in the air palpable.
Startled, Amelia pushed her chair back too quickly, the legs screeching faintly against the floor. It nearly toppled—if not for the steady hand of the man beside her, who rose at the same time. He caught the chair with ease before straightening, his posture relaxed but his eyes alert.
"Mel," the red-haired man said softly, his tone warm in contrast to the stiffness around them, "I'll head off. Your family's already here." He paused, offering her a small, reassuring smile. "I'll see you after lunch."
