“There’s my favorite teine!” he says, his voice full of laughter and affection.

Teine. I remember the word from my time in Samoa. Girl, friend, someone you claim as your own. It’s what all of Alex’s brothers called me. It made me feel special, like I was one of them.

He crosses the distance between us in long strides with those legs that go on forever and wraps me up in a bear hug so big and warm it almost knocks the air out of me.

I laugh, squeezing him back just as hard.

When he lets me go, I blink fast against the sudden sting behind my eyes.

Elias grins down at me, all mischief and sunshine.

“Still so little.” He ruffles my hair like I’m his kid sister.

“Still not funny,” I shoot back, swatting his hand away, but grinning.

He laughs and grabs my bag without being asked, slinging it into the trunk of Violet’s car.

The second we pull out of the parking lot, Elias rolls down the window, sticking his arm out and grinning like a kid tasting freedom for the first time. “Man, it’s like a sauna here. Everything smells green and salty and… old.”

“That’s Charleston for you. Historic and humid. We aim to please,” I say.

Violet shoots Elias a mischievous smile in the rearview mirror. “Wait until the mosquitoes introduce themselves. You’ll really get the full-on Southern experience then.”

He laughs, tossing his head back, and it’s such a good, easy sound that I find myself smiling too.

I settle back against the seat, watching them trade quips. Violet’s even more charming and quick-witted than usual—her grin brighter, her laugh a little softer—and Elias is eating it up like she’s the best thing he’s seen all day.

It’s sweet. And a little funny. But mostly ridiculously obvious.

There’s a current running between them—bright and electric—and even though I’m bone-tired and still carrying a heavy pit of anxiety in my gut, I’m glad to see it.

The conversation drifts for a few minutes—favorite foods, worst travel stories. But eventually, it shifts. And I sense it before he even says a word.

Elias leans forward between the seats, his tone changing, a new seriousness threading through it. “I hate to bring it up, teine, but we gotta talk about McRae.”

I nod, already expecting it. “Of course.”

He glances at Violet—like he’s weighing whether to say what he needs to say in front of her.

“It’s fine. She knows everything. My little chihuahua went head-to-head during the last incident with him and scared him away.”

“Impressive.” Elias settles back in the seat. “You don’t have to be afraid of him. I’m here on behalf of my brother. He was very clear about what he expects from me. McRae tries anything, and he’s going to regret it.”