“They snuck out,” Sloane piped up from beside me. All of us turned to look at her. She’d been uncharacteristically quiet since Briggs had called all of us downstairs. “According to my calculations, Cassie was gone for two hours, forty-three minutes, and seventeen seconds. And she was only wearing two-fifths of a dress.” “Sloane!” I said. “What?” she shot back. “If you wanted me to keep my mouth shut, you should have taken me with you.” We hurt her feelings, I realized suddenly. It hadn’t even occurred to me to ask her.
