. . . SLOANE My hands were trembling at my sides as I faced my brother. Tears slid silently down my cheeks, my heart aching with a mixture of shame and sorrow. I had never felt so small, so utterly broken. My brother stood before me, his face unreadable, his arms crossed tightly. The silence between us was deafening, like a chasm too wide to cross. Vivian who also stood quietly near us, refused to speak. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice cracking as I forced the words out. He didn’t respond, his cold, piercing gaze cutting deeper than any words could. My chest tightened, my tears falling faster. I couldn’t bear the weight of his disappointment. Taking a shaky step forward, I wrapped my arms around him, clinging to him as though he were my lifeline. He was. He was the person