Hazel whips around, her head held so damn high I almost don’t recognize her. “Noah’s eleven-year-old sister,” she finishes for me, slightly changing how the end of my sentence was supposed to go. Shannan’s face falls. “Wait you’re—” “A child? Yeah,” Hazel spits. “Now, I don’t know about you, but my brother probably isn’t going to be too happy when he learns about this. I can only imagine what he’s going to say. You know, he’s very protective of me.”
