“That’s our girl,” Seymour yells, and I’m close to bursting into tears again. “We’re going to take care of him,” Ethan says, and he puts a hand on my shoulder. “We’ve got your back, Emmy.” “Yeah,” Grant adds. “You’re ours now.” “If he comes within four feet of the goal, I’ll shove my stick down his throat,” Liam says, and from him, it’s the equivalent of a love poem.
