“You can’t stay here, you’re right. But Paris is out of the question.” Ella’s fluid movements toward him caught him by surprise, but he resisted snatching her wrists when she lifted both fists and set them to his chest as if prepared to strike, but as with her brother, the punches didn’t come. She just set them there, her stubborn jawline strained as she clearly struggled to deal with her emotions. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Sorry doesn’t come close to cutting it.” She sniffled and looked up at him, her hands still clenched against his chest while his arms hung awkwardly at his sides. He did
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