Chapter 1022 Visiting The Willis Family

• Cups collided, refilled, and collided again, silver rims flashing beneath lanternlight until every reflection became another toast. The liquor slid down like slow poison—three parts bitter, seven parts sorrow—yet no one dared set their glass aside.
• After more bottles of that storied eighty-two than any mind cared to count, even Finneas' iron will began to sway, his vision softening at the edges.
• "In all his days, he had surrendered to drink only twice. The first came the summer he left university, when friends scattered to every corner and farewells tasted of salt.