Chapter 37

"A fire couldn't kill me," Sloane finally replied, her voice as cold as winter frost. "What's a little smoke inhalation?"

Declan flinched at her words.

He'd visited their home after the fire. Her room was devastated—everything reduced to ash, four blackened walls the only testament that a living space had once existed.

The memory sent a chill through him. "What were you thinking?" he demanded, bro