The two big men came forward. The canvas rustled.

“Don’t you touch him.”

My father lunged and caught my bicep, fingers digging in. “Stop being dramatic, Avery. This is for his own good. This is private family business and you are going to stay out of it.”

“No.”

Grandpa’s voice went through the room like a whip crack. It was not the rattle of a confused old man.

My father actually flinched. His grip slackened, and I tore my arm free.