One beat. One unguarded, scorching second.
“My turn.” I should quit while I still haveemotional cartilage left—but momentum's a bitch and I'm past the point of brakes.
“Never have I ever acted like a petty little bitch by destroying architecture just to hurt someone.”
The stunned silence is immediate.
Violent.
Every set of eyes swing to me.
Uncle Seth mutters under his breath, “Jesus tap-dancing Christ.”
Holly touches my knee in silent warning.
Chance inhales sharply.
Everett lifts his head.
I swallow past the lump in my throat and go again, because apparently I've gone full self-destruct tonight.
“Never have I ever wanted to tell someone the truth… but couldn’t without breaking us both.”
Charlie fans herself. “Holy shit.”
Holly nudges my knee hard and whispers, “Sierra…”
Uncle Seth pats my shoulder like I just told him I joined a cult. “You wanna, uh… dial it back there, kiddo?”
“Nope,” I breathe. “Next.”
Nick tries to take over.
Holly tries to cut in. Seth tries to pass the turn like he’s tossing a grenade out the window.
But something is climbing up my throat like a confession on fire, and I can’t stop it.
“Never have I ever… tried to resurrect something that should just stay buried.”
Silence.
Actual silence.
Even the toddlers stop mid–sugar sprint like God hit pause on all children under the age of six.
Charlie whispers, “Ohhh no.”
Everett’s eyes lock on mine.
And for one terrifying second, neither of us breathes. I see it in his eyes. He thinks I’m done, that I won’t push it any farther.
Little does he know, Holly and Chance know everything. Nick and Charlie know enough. And Uncle Seth, well, whatever.
My brothers don’t know and that’s what matters.
I tilt my head, glare at him, and raise my glass. “That’s your drink, isn’t it, Everett?”
The glass in his hand hits the floor, shattering at his feet, but he makes no move to clean it up.
