Mike didn’t shout. He didn’t need to.
His voice was so calm, so firm, that even Brianna’s friends stopped laughing.
Brianna blinked at him, still wearing that smug expression she’d had when she pointed at my mother.
“Dad, what are you doing?”
“You heard me,” Mike replied, gesturing toward the bench beside the courtyard. “Sit down. Right now.”
Her smile faltered.