He cursed under his breath. “Alright, you need to breathe before you do something stupid. Because if this was my sister, I would do something stupid.”

The word rattled in my skull, scraped against the inside of my ribcage like something sharp and ugly. I hated it. Hated the way it sounded in my head, hated the way he said it, like that was all she could ever be. Like that was all she was supposed to be.

Sister, but she let him put his hands on her waist.

Sister, but she tilted her head just enough for him to whisper something in her ear.

Sister, but she knew exactly what she was doing when she glanced over at me, waiting for a reaction.

My jaw clenched so hard it ached.

I forced myself to sit back.

I could handle this. I had to handle this.

Beverly could dance with whoever the hell she wanted.

I had no right to feel like this.

A minute passed. Maybe two.

Then I heard her laugh.

Sharp. And wrong.

Because it was forced.

Because it wasn’t the real one—the laugh I knew by heart. The laugh that slipped out when she was actually happy. The laugh that curled through her throat when I said something completely unfunny just to make her roll her eyes, or when Tiffany tripped over air and swore she meant to do it.

This laugh? It was hollow. A performance.

Then I saw his hands slide lower, and Beverly flinched. It was barely noticeable—a quick, fleeting movement, so subtle that anyone else might have missed it.

But I didn’t.

Jamal groaned. “Ah, shit.”

I was already moving, already making my way through the crowd, my vision narrowing, my hands itching.

I was done watching.

Because he still had his hands on her.

Because Beverly wasn’t smiling anymore.

I reached him in seconds, grabbed his shoulder, and yanked him back. “Hands off.”

He stumbled slightly before turning to me with an irritated look. “What the⁠—?”

Then his eyes met mine. His cocky grin faltered.

“She’s done dancing with you.”

“You her boyfriend or something?”

I didn’t repeat myself.

His confidence wavered. He looked at Beverly for help.

She said nothing. She just stood there.

He laughed, raising his hands. “Alright, man. Whatever.”

Then he was gone.

I let out a breath, forcing my shoulders to relax. I waited, bracing myself for the inevitable storm. I expected Beverly to unleash her frustration, to tell me I was meddling too much, to call me overprotective, and to tell me to stay out of her business.

To my surprise, she didn’t.

Instead, she just stared at me, her eyes wide and unreadable, like she didn’t know what to say. Like she didn’t know what to do with me. Like she didn’t know what to do with herself.

The silence stretched.