Gideon hadn’t originally been invited, but his brush with one of DJ’s bullets that afternoon had left him shaken and wanting company. Daisy was equally shaken, although she was wearing a brave face. Gideon’s presence crowded them a bit in the small studio, but no one faulted the two for not wanting the other out of their sight, and Rafe couldn’t manage the stairs. So they crowded in close on the ground floor, Liza finding comfort in their company.

“All the important flavors, anyway,” Erin amended. Sasha’s girlfriend had been shot by Ephraim a month ago along with so many others, and although she’d returned to desk duty in SacPD’s homicide department, she was still in pain from her injuries. She couldn’t sit on the floor with the rest of them but didn’t want to miss the party. “Look in the freezer, if you want.”

With a squeal of delight, Abigail ran to the freezer. “It’s like an ice cream store!”

“There’s even rocky road,” Erin said. “For Liza.”

“Because we are here for you, girl,” Sasha said, because apparently everyone knew that Liza and Tom had argued. “No boys allowed in our clubhouse. Except for Rafe. He can stay.”

Rafe mock-sneered at his sister. “Gee, thanks, considering it’s my apartment.”

“What about me?” Gideon asked.

“You can stay, too,” Daisy said. “You can even be the next client in Daisy’s nail salon.”

“That’s not necessary,” Gideon assured her. “I’m just here for the pizza.”

And the support from this tight-knit group of friends. No one had mentioned the shooting, but it was on everyone’s mind.

Liza had heard about it from Karl’s driver after she’d climbed from the box he’d used to smuggle her into his truck. The family was shaken, he’d shared. So was Liza, but it seemed they were getting very skilled at pretending that everything was all right.

Liza looked up from shaking the bottle of topcoat for Abigail’s nails when she noticed that the room had grown quiet. And that Rafe was looking uncomfortable. “You okay, Rafe?”

Rafe made an awkward face as he scratched the back of his neck. “Liza, can I talk to you for a moment?” He pointed at the front door. “Out in the hall?”

Liza gave him a wary look. “Now?”

“Yeah.”

Mercy’s brows crunched together. “Rafe? What have you done?”

“Nothing.” He winced. “Well, nothing bad. Too bad anyway. Nothing I can’t fix.”

Liza stood, dread settling on her shoulders. This would be about Tom, then. “Let’s get it over with.” She followed Rafe out and waited until he’d settled himself against the foyer wall, leaning on his cane. “Go ahead.”

“I need some help with some heavy lifting for Mercy’s party on Sunday. You know about the party, right?”

“Yes,” Liza said, relieved. This wasn’t about Tom, then. “What do you need lifted?”

Rafe opened his mouth, then closed it. Then sighed. “I don’t need you to lift anything. I called Tom. He’s coming over to help me load some tables into Amos’s truck.”