My tone gentled, turning serious. “I would never hurt Sloane. She means…” The world. “Too much to me.” Pen’s frown remained for another beat before it melted into something more vulnerable. “Good,” she said, her voice small. “Because she’s been hurt enough already.” I hadn’t planned on getting punched in the gut by a nine-year-old today, but Pen’s aim was even better than her virtual soccer skills. A burn spread from my gut to my chest, for Sloane and Pen. Both of them deserved better than what they got from the people who supposedly loved them.
