“Stop.” The word exited Sloane’s mouth in a whisper. “Stop. Stop. Stop!” She’d been silent since we’d made it back, and as her volume escalated to a yell, the boys froze. I’d never seen Dean pick a fight with Michael before. I’d never seen the two of them in an all-out brawl. “It’s not Michael’s fault.” Sloane’s voice was barely audible. “It’s mine.” She moved backward until she hit the wall. “I saw Lia leaving. She asked me not to tell.” Sloane sucked in a breath, her middle finger on her right hand tapping against her thumb. She was counting something—counting and counting and unable to pull
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