Tristan's POV:

Tia proves to be a handful. She was a blubbering mess the day we picked her up. She seemed to think she was the only one grieving. She had barely met me and yet she literally flung her luggage at me, expecting me to carry it.

She demanded to sit in the front seat, a demand I refused to meet.

"No," I'd said in a firm, authoritative voice that hopefully demanded respect.

"Why?" she asked.

"Your sister is sitting there."

I was not about ...