Deven shook her head. As true as it was, it didn’t make it any better. Nor did it justify Kennedy’s actions. Who was this person? “I just can’t believe I never saw this,” she murmured to herself. “I mean, I know my sister likes to shop and spend money. I know she likes plastic surgery and getting her hair done and all that. But stealing, Paul? Hell, did she ever even have a real job?”

Paul’s cell phone buzzed, and he pulled it from his pocket, easily driving with one hand. He used his thumb to swipe while his eyes toggled from the screen to the road. “I think we may have some answers soon,” he said with a slight smile. “I got some information from my law enforcement friend on that license plate number for Deuce. He’s going to email me in a minute.”

“Good. I could use some good news instead of hearing about how I’m going to go to jail for some stolen money I had nothing to do with.”

“No, you’re not. No one is going to jail. Except maybe your sister.”

The thought was unsettling and had queasiness ascending from Deven’s belly. “See, that’s the thing,” she sputtered. “I don’t want my sister to go to jail. I don’t want her to get in any trouble.”

“Even if it’s proven that she stole money? She stole from me, too, Deven,” he added at her hesitation.

She sighed. “I know that’s what you say, Paul—”

“But what? You think I’m lying? You think the Wrights are lying?”

He was getting upset. He had even moved his hand to break their touch. Deven didn’t want him mad at her. She wanted him to be there for her like he’d been all this time. But dammit she wasn’t ready to give up on Kennedy. Not yet. Not again.

“I just want to hear her side first,” she said carefully. “I’m not saying anyone is lying. I’m just saying we don’t have all the facts and I’m not just going to condemn my sister without answers. That’s not fair to anyone.”

Paul was clearly dissatisfied with her response, but thankfully, he didn’t push the conversation anymore. They lapsed into strained silence the rest of the ride home and Deven was okay with that. She needed the silence. It was better than having to listen to more animosity.

It was still early by the time they pulled back into the apartment complex. Deven didn’t wait around for Paul, instead hiking through the parking lot without caring if he followed. She heard him running to catch up, then the hand on her forearm to stop her in her tracks.

“Deven, I’m sorry,” he said stepping in front to block her path. “I am. I wasn’t trying to be insensitive.”