“He didn’t do it for me,” Charlie said. “We decided together.”

“Together?” Auntie Bea rolled her eyes and the words dripped disdain. “You’re thirty, he’s seventeen, and he would do anything for you.”

Charlie breathed in. Breathed out. Let nothing at all leak into her voice. “Are you saying I took advantage of him?”

Eyes locked on Auntie Bea, Charlie felt Allie release her and step back, reaching past her to pull Graham away, quieting his protest with a soft, “Not now.”

Auntie Bea laced her fingers together, eyes beginning to darken.

“Bea.” Auntie Gwen’s voice barely managed to break the silence. “In this family, Jack’s an adult. He’s fully capable of taking responsibility for his own decisions.”

“If he’s an adult, he should be here,” Auntie Trisha pointed out a little too emphatically.

Auntie Carmen stood. “I’ll go get him.”

Charlie heard Auntie Carmen’s clothing rustle as she walked toward the door. Heard the soft sound of her crepe soles against the hardwood. Heard metal move against metal as the door opened. Heard the difference between hardwood and tile as she walked along the hall to Jack’s bedroom.

Allie said something, but she wasn’t talking to her so Charlie didn’t listen. And she didn’t look away from Auntie Bea.

Heard another door open. Heard the strong, slow beat of Jack’s heart. Heard hers slow to match it. Slow, but pounding so hard she had to clench her fists to contain it.

“I can’t wake him,” Auntie Carmen said when she returned. “He’s fine, I checked, but he’s too deeply asleep to wake. It’s a dragon sleep, not a Gale sleep.”

“Wake him,” Auntie Bea said.

“No.” It was as definitive a no as Charlie could make it. A gauntlet of denial thrown at Auntie Bea’s feet.

Are you challenging me, Charlotte.

You’re fucking right I am.

Auntie Bea flinched as though she’d been struck, as though Charlie’s response had physical form. Then she drew in a deep breath and snarled, “You remind me so much of Catherine right now.”

“Do I?”

“She thought she was too big for the family as well.”

Charlie felt Allie’s fingertips brush her arm, but she’d started moving before Allie’d reached out and was halfway to the door before she heard her name.

“Let her go,” Auntie Gwen advised as Charlie grabbed her gig bag in one hand, tucked her boots under her arm, and yanked her jacket off its hook. “Let them cool down a little.”

“I do not need to cool down, Gwendolyn. I . . .”