Sabrina saw it.
She saw Gianna wince, the faint tightening around her eyes, saw the contempt bloom unmistakably in her cousin's gaze—and she knew immediately that whatever games her parents had planned to play this afternoon would be a waste.
Hadn't she told them?
The thought burned bitter on her tongue as she watched her father hurry forward like a clown rushing onto a stage already set against him.
Gianna was done with them—long done with them—and with her friends surrounding her like a barricade, begging would be harder. It would be nonexistent.
But her father had answered her earlier observations with a slap.
Even now, he was beckoning her forward, eyes hardening when he noticed she hadn't followed. The command was silent but unmistakable.
Sabrina exhaled weakly and went after them.
