Chapter 37

**Sloane**

“Focus, children. If I die because one of you is too busy making relationship commentary to catch a sniper on thermal, I’ll haunt you in increasingly petty ways.”

“Petty how?” Declan asks, and I hear the interest in his voice. “I’ll replace all your shampoo with Nair and change your lockscreen to photos of Ronan’s worst ex.” Dom makes a strangled sound. “Vanessa?”

“Okay,” Declan mutters