Rafe’s smile was one of relief. “Okay. But maybe tell that to Mercy? Otherwise I’ll be sleeping with Abigail’s puppy in the doghouse tonight.”

“It’ll be quieter there,” she told him. “Abigail wants to stay up all night telling stories. I give her till midnight before she conks out.”

She opened the door to rejoin the party, only to stop short at the sight of Mercy holding one of the cartons of rocky road and a spoon.

Liza appreciated the gesture more than she could say, and she really, really wanted that ice cream, but she shook her head with a smile. “I’m good. Let’s save the dessert until after the pizza. Abigail, we need to finish polishing your fingernails.”

“Mercy did it for me.”

Well, shit. Liza amped up her smile. “What about your toenails? You can’t leave them naked. That would be too scandalous.”

“Can I have stickers on them?”

“You sure can.” Liza sat on the floor and patted her lap. “Come sit with me and we can choose your design.” And if she squeezed Abigail a little harder than necessary, the little girl didn’t complain.

TWENTY-ONE

SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA

SATURDAY, MAY 27, 10:30 A.M.

Liza found everyone eating pancakes in Rafe’s small studio apartment the next morning. They’d scattered among the three floors when it had been time for bed the night before. Liza had been worried that Abigail would want to camp on the floor with sleeping bags, but the girl had informed them that she’d slept on the floor “back there” and liked a soft bed better.

Liza had been the odd woman out, all the other adults—except for Amos—having partners. So she’d shared Abigail’s bed with the little girl, telling herself to stop feeling sorry for herself.

Amos had prepared her for Abigail’s nightmares. Liza was ready to hold Abigail and tell her that it would be all right. What she hadn’t expected was that she’d wake up gasping herself. She’d dreamed about Fritz again, except that at the last minute, Fritz’s face had become Tom’s.

Equally unexpected was that Abigail had comforted her. The child had wrapped her arms around Liza’s neck in a fierce hug, telling her sleepily that it was just a dream and that everything would be all right.

The aroma of bacon hit her nose as soon as she walked into Rafe’s apartment. Gideon offered his chair, but Liza waved him away, sitting on the floor instead.

“I have eaten in far worse conditions,” she assured him. She felt her phone buzz and tensed, instantly thinking it was Tom.

But it wasn’t and she had to scold herself for being disappointed.

“Who is it?” Abigail asked, peeking at her screen.

“It’s a text from the eye doctor,” Liza said with a smile. “Our glasses are ready.”

“No,” Gideon and Rafe said together.

“Mercy isn’t going anywhere near that place again,” Rafe added.

Amos had grown pale. “Neither is Abigail. Neither will you.”