For a few long seconds, I just hold on to my dad, nothing needing to be said, nothing needing to be done.

But my moment of peace is short-lived. I pull back, staring at him. “You left me,” I say, and there’s hurt in my voice, but also an accusation. “You made me chase you all over the UK! And, and, Logan, and that ball. How could you?” All the feelings I’ve suppressed over the last month are bubbling to the surface.

My dad examines my face, taking careful note of my upset. “I owe you an explanation, Nova. You have every right to be upset with me. We will talk at length and I’ll answer all your questions. Just not here,” he says, and glances around the courtyard. “Let’s get you kids inside.”

We follow my dad down a long hall and he opens a door to a cozy sitting room. There are an oversized wine-colored couch with two armchairs and a coffee table, a set of bookshelves, a few old trunks, and a lit fireplace. He holds the door open and Layla and Matteo file in, with Ash and me behind them. Aarya is last, and before she comes through the door, my dad quietly talks to her.

“Aarya,” he says with a heaviness in his voice, “I cannot tell you how sorry I am.”

For a moment, Aarya looks surprised, like she’s not used to adults showing concern over her. But as I register the grief on her face, I realize that my own frustration with my dad is a luxury, that I can only be mad because he’s here, that while I might not like what he did, I have everything to be grateful for.

Aarya shakes her head as if to downplay her sadness. “Ines was proud to fight here today. She would have made the same choice one hundred times over.”

My dad watches Aarya thoughtfully, reading her expression and her reaction to his tone. “I don’t know what your plans are going forward, if you intend to return to the Academy, but if you need time, you’re welcome to stay here with us.”

For an instant, Aarya seems shocked by the offer, and I’m reminded that my dad isn’t like the other Strategia parents, that his time in Pembrook changed him. Or maybe being raised by Jag made him choose a different direction, a direction that involved being a loving and affectionate parent. Whatever the case, it’s clear that Aarya isn’t sure how to react.

“I…well…I should really…,” she starts, and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen her at a loss for words. She sighs. “Thank you. Maybe I will.”

My dad closes the door behind Aarya and gestures for us to sit.

“Layla and Ashai,” he says. “Zareen’s kids. Your mother and I were once good friends when we were studying at the Academy.”