He raised his hands in defense and chuckled nervously. “What? He did.”

“He was being a racist piece of garbage, Arthur,” Tiffany said, still filing her nails like this was just another Tuesday.

Dad exhaled through his nose. Then he turned back to me. “Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice softer this time.

I shook my head.

His gaze flicked to Blake.

Blake looked at him, his face blank. “She’s fine.”

Dad’s eyes narrowed. “That wasn’t my question.”

Blake held his stare. “I’m fine.”

That was obviously a lie. But Dad didn’t push.

“Wait,” Jamal cut in. “So, you already know what happened? All of it? The whole story?”

“Kid, I was here when they brought Nathan in,” Dad said. “You think I didn’t hear him whining about his ‘poor face’ in holding?” He sighed, shaking his head. “Honestly, I’m impressed anyone managed to shut him up long enough to throw a punch.”

I snorted. I couldn’t help it.

Dad shot me a quick glare. “I didn’t need to hear it from him,” he continued. “When your daughter and son are involved in something like this, I don’t just sit back and wait for the gossip to get to me. I make a few calls. I find out what really happened.” His gaze flicked back to Blake, his expression hardening. “I told you, if you ever got in a fight again, you’d regret it.”

Blake shrugged, and Dad scrubbed a hand down his face like he was trying to physically push down his frustration.

“You know what?” he muttered, almost to himself. “I spent all night breaking up bar fights, and now I gotta deal with this?”

“You don’t have to,” Jamal offered, way too hopeful. “I mean, technically we could⁠—”

“Sit down,” Dad snapped.

Jamal sat down immediately.

“So,” Dad continued, “your grand solution to all of this was to throw a punch? That was the best you could come up with? I thought I raised you better than that. What happened to using your words? To handling things without resorting to violence?”

“Well, I tried that,” I protested. “But it wasn’t working⁠—”

“Look,” Tiffany interrupted, folding her arms. “We were all there. We saw exactly what Nathan and his friends were doing, and someone had to stop it. If you want to blame someone, blame him for starting all of this in the first place.”

Dad pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m not blaming anyone, but I want you to understand that violence, no matter the reason, doesn’t solve anything. It only makes things worse. You’re all smart enough to know that this wasn’t the answer.”

Tiffany shifted uncomfortably but didn’t argue. Jamal stared at the floor. Blake’s jaw was clenched so tight it looked like it might snap. And me? I just nodded, because as much as I hated to admit it…he wasn’t wrong.