Several hours after her father had finally told the truth, Brigid waited in the conference room for the agents to deliver the metal box they’d dug up from the grave outside of Boston. Her dad sat across from her and tossed the crust from his pizza to the happy dog in the corner. Roscoe caught the piece easily, munching with a contented doggy snort.

“Nice dog,” her dad said.

She breathed out. “Thank you for telling us the truth.”

He eyed her with his deep green gaze. “So you work for the government now.”

She finished chewing a piece of veggie pizza, her anxiety upping a notch. She could tell him the truth. Maybe he’d finally be proud of her. “Yes. We stopped a bombing plot that would’ve killed tons of parade-goers last month.” She took a sip of the too sweet soda Wolfe had provided before he’d disappeared into the other room. “I think I can help people this way and still use the computer.” Her grin felt more natural. “It beats getting in trouble.”

Her dad took another piece of pepperoni from the box. “Ain’t that the truth.”

She swallowed, enjoying the warmth of being near him. “Did you leave the Coonan organization because of Mom?”

His eyes softened. “Aye. Was an enforcer, felt like a badass, had lots of money. She was workin’ as a waitress in a small diner, puttin’ herself through school to study accounting.” His gaze seemed far away. “Took one look at her and knew I’d have to be a different man to even have a chance.”

Brigid smiled. “Was it hard? Leaving the exciting life of crime?”

“Nope.” He chewed some more. “Farming was exciting enough—never knew what the weather might bring. And I had her . . . and you.” He ducked his head, a massive man with big muscles and thick gray hair. “I’m sorry.”

Brigid held up a hand, tears pricking the back of her eyes. “I’m sorry. I should’ve come home sooner.”

“I shoulda come and got ya,” he said, his hands twisting a napkin. “So stubborn. Both of us.”

“So was she,” Brigid said softly. “I understand why she didn’t want to go through with the medical trials. She wouldn’t have been able to enjoy the time we had left. But man, was she stubborn.”

Her dad barked out a laugh, his expression lightening. “Wasn’t she, though? One time, when she was mad at me, I thought she’d bean me with a skillet. But no. She cooked vegan meals for two weeks. Remember?”

Laughter and love swelled through Brigid. “I do. Remember the tofu? It was flavored with lemon and . . .”

“Some sort of grass.” Her dad shuddered. “Boy, did I give in on that one. Even bought her flowers.”

Brigid laughed and wiped off her hands. “I remember.”

Her dad cleared his throat. “So. About this Raider.”