Eric shouted as soon as I walked through the front door. My mouth dropped open. “Sophie!” “I . . .” Why was he so furious? “Last time I checked, you aren’t my father or even my babysitter.” “No, I’m your brother!” “He’s been freaking out for the last hour,” Dane said, walking out of the kitchen. “He even walked around the block looking for you.” Eric shot him a glare before turning his attention back to me. “Where have you been?” “Out.” “That’s not an answer!” “I thought you wanted me to see Paris!” “I was worried something might have happened to you! Especially after the way you left. Dad would have flipped out if you had gotten lost while I was in charge.” “In charge? Are you kidding me? I’m not five years old, Eric. I’m sixteen. You’re not in charge of me.” He scowled at that, and I stomped off to Camille’s room, only to stop in the doorway when I saw her lounging on her bed, flipping through a French gossip magazine. Her upper lip curled as she glanced up at me.
