I tried to listen, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything except the way Mark kept playing with her braid. Lizzie didn’t seem to notice, she was too engrossed in whatever she was saying, but I did. I noticed, and I didn’t like it. Not one bit. I tried to keep smiling and ignore it, because he’d been in Lizzie’s life so long that he was practically her brother, and I, myself, often ruffled my sister’s curls with playful affection. But I couldn’t seem to shake off the protective feeling roaring to life inside of me. Maybe it was because I knew just how badly Mark bullied Gibsie and seeing him
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