“I don’t think a lot of people have.” And that included the partners at CZT, aka “that company,” before they’d been invited to bid on the job. Cara had heard of Eldovia, but only because she had memorized every country and its capital when she was in eighth grade, back when she was in a particularly aggressive education-is-the-way-out-of-poverty phase. “It’s tiny. It doesn’t do much.” Except make luxury watches, and her parents were not luxury-watch people. The Alpine micronation didn’t even make that many watches anymore. Hence the big, lucrative contract. And the Thanksgiving trip.

Her mom turned back from her oatmeal, her eyes shiny. Dammit. Cara was being bitchy because being bitchy was easier than being disappointed. She had a tendency to lash out when she was feeling vulnerable. She didn’t want to miss Thanksgiving with her family any more than her mother wanted her to. She didn’t want to spend her red-eye flight awake and cramming—though she knew this file, she hadn’t been heavily involved in the day-to-day details of the project.

At least her parents would have each other. She was going to be alone on the other side of the ocean. Ugh. She resolved to try to get at least some sleep on the plane. Being so tired was making her uncharacteristically emotional.

She steeled herself. She’d missed holidays before. She could do it again. And even though she didn’t get paid for working over a holiday like her dad used to, her annual performance reviews always made mention of her reliability. She was a team player. A respected leader. Those adjectives accreted. She had worked hard for those adjectives.

“I’m gonna miss you, lassie,” her dad said, and as he stood and wrapped her in his arms, which had always been her safe place, she said her daily prayer of thanks that Patrick Delaney had chosen to claim her as his own.

She let him hug her for longer than she normally would have because she needed time to get her shit together, to make sure the lump in her throat was well and fully swallowed.

“We’ll light a candle for you in church on Thanksgiving,” her mom said, her voice back to its usual lilting warmth.