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Sylvie is on the porch before Bastian has even killed the engine. She’s got a dish towel over one shoulder, her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, and she’s holding a mixing spoon.

“Boys!”

She hugs Bastian first, then Stone and Nikko, who lifts her off the ground for a second and makes her laugh, and then me.

She holds me a beat longer than the others. When she pulls back, she stares at my face and her expression softens.

“Fox.”

“Hi, Sylvie.”

“You look lighter, sweetheart.”

“It was a good trip.”

The guys stream into the house with their bags. Nikko is already asking Sylvie what she’s cooking. Stone goes straight up to his room to unpack because, god forbid, his clothes get wrinkled. Bastian calls the rental company to pick up the van and then heads up to his cabin.

As I watch him disappear through the trees, I think about what he said about being in love with Taylen.

Suddenly, I need to see Finn before I do anything else.

“I’m going to head over to the festival site,” I say to whoever is listening. “I told Finn I’d help him check on the sound setup. He wants me to look at the mixer before tonight.”

The lie is quick, but no one calls me on it.

“Sure thing, honey,” Sylvie says. “See you at dinner.”

I drop my duffel just inside the door, keep my coat on, and walk to my car.

The drive to the festival site takes only a few minutes, but it feels longer.

The parking area is chaos. There are vendor trucks, town maintenance vans, and Emmett’s little blue hatchback, which somehow always ends up in the best spot, no matter what.

There’s also a truck full of Christmas trees waiting to be unloaded onto the tree lot and two guys in high-vis vests directing traffic.

I park at the far edge of the field, and as soon as I’m out of the car, I walk toward the main path to look for Finn.

Emmett appears out of nowhere, his curls barely contained under a green beanie, and he’s carrying two coffees.

“Hey, Fox. You’re back.”

“Hi, Emmett.”

“Please save him from himself.”

He hands me one of the coffees without waiting for an answer.

“Where is he?”

“In the main stage area. He hasn’t slept. He says he doesn’t have time to eat, and earlier, he didn’t quite yell at the lighting foreperson, but some strong words were exchanged. Please, I’m begging. Save him from himself.”

“I’m on it.”

“If you can get him to drink that coffee, I owe you my firstborn.”

“Deal.”

Emmett claps my shoulder and disappears back into the crowd.