She gives my arm a relieved squeeze. “You’re a good sister.”

Sure, I am. That’s why the very rotten part of my soul is hoping that this law school argument is the eye-opener that Devon needs.

With an apologetic wave at Scott—ugh, really need to come clean with him—I trudge inside, grabbing a handful of carrots on my way in, mostly because I’m pretty sure I feel Michael’s gaze on my back. Probably making sure I don’t snag a pre-dinner brownie.

I’m halfway up the stairs when I hear the raised voices. My footsteps falter as I realize that there’s more going on than sulky Kristin and a little bit of tension from Dev.

This is a full-on fight.

For a second, I think about heading back downstairs, but my curiosity propels me forward. Devon and Kristin have bickered before, but to my knowledge, nothing like this.

By the time I get to the top of the stairs, the muffled yells are becoming clearer, and I can actually make out words.

Starting with Kristin’s screeched “You’re so selfish!”

Devon’s laugh is harsh and rough. “I’m selfish? Seriously? I’m telling you that I have a real shot at achieving my dreams and you’re somehow managing to make that about you. Of course, because it’s always about you, right, Kristin?”

Ooooooh, boy. I pause outside the door, well aware that I’m eavesdropping, but unable to walk away.

“It’s not about me, it’s about us. An us you don’t seem to care about anymore.”

“I care!” Devon shouts. “I just don’t see why I can’t have both. Harvard Law and my girlfriend.”

Yes. Excellent point, Dev. I silently applaud.

“It’s not part of our plan.”

“I didn’t even know we had a plan!” Devon says.

“But you had a plan, didn’t you? You’ve been wanting to go to law school all along!”

He’s got no response, and I mentally award a point to Kristin.

“I didn’t tell you, because I knew you’d freak out,” he mutters.

I wince. A classic guy response that’s both honest and idiotic.

As expected, Kristin practically hisses. “Oh, but Chloe didn’t freak out, did she? Chloe was your adoring cheerleader in all this.”

My hand goes to my mouth and I give a little shake of my head. No, no. Leave me out of this.

And yet … I lean a little closer to the wall to hear what Devon says.

“At least she supports me,” he says after a brief pause.

“Of course she does! She’s obsessed with you! God knows she doesn’t have anything better to do than egg you on, falling all over herself to be your confidante.”

I suck in a little breath of hurt. I know Kristin disdains me. She’s never made a secret of it. But I didn’t realize her impression of me was quite so condescending. I also just got confirmation that she knows full well how I feel about her boyfriend.

Guilt mingles with dismay.

“You’re just pissed because you’ve been trying to lure that Michael guy into your look-but-don’t-touch groupies, but it’s Chloe that’s actually hooked him.”

Okay, on that one, Dev’s way off base.

“They’re just friends,” Kristin says dismissively. “He’s got nothing better to do, and he probably feels a little sorry for her.”

My mouth drops open. I’m trying really hard to hold on to sisterly loyalty, but she’s making it difficult.

Devon’s voice is low, maybe just a little taunting. “You didn’t see him salivating when she was wearing a bikini earlier.”

I straighten a little at that, but Kristin laughs. “Please. Chloe would never wear a bikini.”

Devon says nothing, and Kristin’s laugh fades. Apparently she doesn’t like whatever expression she sees on Dev’s face, because her voice is right back to shrill.

“Don’t even tell me you’ve got a boner for my fat sister now.”

Ouch. Damn it. My eyes water.

“Jesus, Kristin,” he mutters.

“She’s lost like five pounds. Why is everyone acting like she’s a freaking supermodel?”

“You sound like a bitch.”

“Of course you’d defend her. You’re always on her side.”

“And you’re always putting her down. At least I can talk to her! At least she wants what’s best for me.”

“And what’s best for you, Devon?” Kristin asks sweetly.

There’s a too-long beat of silence, and I can picture Devon running his hands through his hair, flustered and frustrated.

“Just say it,” Kristin says. Her voice is wobbly now, and I feel bad for her, even though her cruelty in this conversation is rather unprecedented.

“Say what?” Dev’s voice is tired.

“Say you want to break up. Say you want to go to Boston and become a fancy lawyer with a fancy lawyer girlfriend.”

“I can’t stay in Texas for you, K.”

“Because you don’t love me enough.”

Oh, Lord. She did not just play that card.

“And you don’t love me enough to let me go,” he says back. He’s not yelling anymore. His voice is all raspy and curt.

“I guess not,” she says, arms folded across her chest. “I want someone who wants me more than he wants a stupid degree.”

Don’t cave, Devon. Please don’t cave to her manipulations.