“Alright,” Dad sighed, his voice a little calmer. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I convinced my lieutenant to let you all go without charges⁠—”

“Yes!” Tiffany fist-pumped the air.

“—if you clean up the mess you left at Sydney’s house.”

“No,” Tiffany groaned. “No, no, no, no, Arthur, you don’t understand. There’s like…spilled beer, and Doritos dust, and I’m pretty sure someone threw up in the pool.”

“Sounds like your problem,” Dad said dryly.

“Can I just point out that this is technically Blake’s fault?” Jamal muttered under his breath.

“You want me to call your mom?” Dad shot back.

Jamal slumped in his chair. “I’ll clean.”

“Smart choice,” Dad said with a nod of approval. “And Blake? You’re helping me wash the truck tomorrow. No excuses.”

Blake blinked. “What?”

“You want to act like a thug?” Dad said. “Fine. You can spend your Saturday morning scrubbing bird crap off my windshield.”

“I’ve seen your windshield,” Jamal said, a look of genuine horror crossing his face. “That’s cruel and unusual punishment.”

Tiffany jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.

Jamal cleared his throat. “I’ll, uh… I’ll shut up now.”

Dad’s silence was worse than yelling.

“Let’s go,” he finally muttered, shaking his head like we were all helpless. “You’re embarrassing me in front of my coworkers.”

We stood immediately. No arguments. No hesitation. We had already dodged arrest—we weren’t about to push our luck.

We followed him out, one by one, our shoes squeaking on the tile floor. Jamal kept pace beside Tiffany, who was still very much unbothered by the fact that we had just spent our time sitting in police custody. “This is gonna be a hell of a story,” she said.

Jamal raised his brows. “Yeah? You gonna tell your grandkids how you dragged a girl across a floor by her hair?”

Tiffany smirked. “Damn right, I am. I’m gonna embellish the hell out of it, too. Maybe I’ll say I took down two girls at once.”

Jamal shook his head. “You’re unhinged.”

“Aww, you noticed.”

Jamal chuckled. “Kinda hot, not gonna lie.”

“Thank you,” she said sweetly.

Blake walked beside me, his shoulder bumping mine just once. “You okay?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” I replied, voice low. “You?”

He exhaled a tired breath. “I will be.”

As I stepped outside, the cool night air hit me like a slap, and I realized just how tense my body had been this whole time.

Blake was walking ahead of me now, his shoulders stiff, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

I knew that posture. It meant he was still running through everything in his head. And I wasn’t the only one who noticed.

Dad fell into step beside him.

Blake didn’t look at him.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Blake muttered, “Why isn’t Nathan pressing charges?”