CHAPTER TWELVE
Both of us jumped awake to a slammed door.
“What the hell?” Bryce groaned and ran a tired hand over his face. When his little sister let loose with a blood-curdling scream, he sighed again and moved to the edge of the bed.
I yawned and curled on my side as I pulled the bedcovers over me again.
Bryce stood up, shirtless, in his basketball shorts and padded barefoot out the door. He banged on a door and I heard him mediating between his seven-year-old sister, Savannah, and his fourteen-year-old brother, Luca.
The two were water and oil. And their mother never helped. She either scolded, threatened, or placated. She never disciplined. That was what Bryce told me once and I’d seen enough to agree with him.
From what I could overhear, Luca was sick and vomiting in the bathr
