Page 49 of Manic

Some faces I recognize, weathered by time but still familiar.

Others are new, young prospects eyeing us with curiosity.

I keep Tindra close, my protective instincts on high alert.

"Meghan!" A familiar voice cuts through the noise, and I turn to see Starla pushing her way toward us. "Holy shit, you actually came!"

She wraps me in a tight hug, and for a moment, I let myself relax into the embrace of my old friend.

When we part, she turns to Tindra with a wide grin.

"And look at you, all grown up!" She ruffles Tindra's hair affectionately. "Last time I saw you, you were knee-high to a grasshopper."

Tindra laughs, ducking away from Starla's hand. "I'm not that little anymore!"

"No, you sure aren't," Starla agrees, her eyes flickering to me.

I turn to see Tor making his way towards us, the crowd parting before him like the Red Sea.

My breath catches in my throat at the sight of him.

Seeing him here, in the club, with the brothers around him brings back a mountain of memories.

But his presence is as commanding as ever, filling the room with an almost tangible energy.

His eyes lock on mine, and for a moment, the world falls away.

All the years between us, all the pain and anger and regret, seem to condense into this single, charged moment.

Then his gaze shifts to Tindra, and his face softens into a smile that makes my heart ache.

"There's my girl," he says, his voice gruff with emotion.

Tindra hesitates for just a second before throwing herself into his arms. "Dad!"

I watch as Tor lifts her off her feet, holding her close.

The love between them is obvious, and I feel a pang of guilt for keeping them apart for so long.

But I push it aside, reminding myself that I did what I thought was best at the time.

When Tor sets Tindra down, he turns to me. "Meg," he says, his voice low. "You have no idea how much you've been on my mind these last few days."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

There's so much I want to say, so many questions I need answered.

But this isn't the time or place for that conversation.

"Come on," Tor says, placing a hand on Tindra's shoulder. "There are some people I want you to meet."

As we follow him through the crowd, I can't help but marvel at how easily Tindra fits into this world.

She moves with a confidence that surprises me, chatting easily with the people Tor introduces her to.

I hang back, watching, caught between pride and a gnawing fear.

We reach a table where several familiar faces are gathered.

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