23
The others were still up when Ethan and I returned home around midnight. When we told them of the witches’ power trip, Connor and Nathan had exploded.
By two a.m., after the others had dispersed into the living room, I paced the kitchen—just as I had at one. Neither my body nor my mind would relax.
How could they, knowing what the witches were going to do to Sean—my Sean?
My hands curled into fists, uncurled, curled again.
How b****y dare they? What right did they have to take the boys to feed their over-inflated egos?
It was all well and good for Jess to say we had a week to find them. I couldn’t wait a week. I’d go crazy—as if I hadn’t already since speaking with Jess.
Ethan’s bulk filled the doorway to the unlit kitchen.
I didn’t even falter in my pacing, had pumped myself up
