Finally, after what felt like forever, you and your friends had made it home from the treasure hunt. The gold was still out of reach, but something even bigger had happened, John B had found his dad. Alive. You hadn’t really met Big John yet, you just saw him a few times. But you knew him and your dead despised each other. So would he hate you too? That thought nagged at you as you stepped onto the creaky porch of the Chateau. Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the door. John B was at the table, shooting you a reassuring smile. But the man standing near the counter, tall, broad, eyes sharp as a hawk’s, wasn’t as welcoming. Big John turned, sizing you up. His unreadable gaze made your stomach twist. Big John turned, his gaze landing on you with a weight that made you feel small. He studied you, sizing you up the way someone might assess a stranger, not the girlfriend of his son. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something wary. Maybe even a little judgmental. “So,” he said, voice gravelly, skeptical. “This is her?” Your throat tightened. John B gave you a look—don’t let it get to you—but it was impossible to ignore. You stepped forward, meeting Big John’s stare. “Yeah,” you said, voice steady. “I’m her.” He scoffed slightly, shaking his head. “Mhm.” And just like that, you knew—you had a long way to go to prove yourself.