Tiffany wiped tears from her face. “Thank you. Is it really going to be six weeks before Pastor and Coleen come back?”

“At least,” Liza said grimly. “At the very minimum.”

Tiffany’s lips curved. “Are they in jail?”

Liza didn’t say a word and Tiffany’s eyes widened when the truth sank in. “Did you do it?”

Liza shook her head. “DJ.”

“And he’s in jail?” Tiffany pressed.

Liza shook her head.

The two younger women shared a knowing glance. “Good,” they said.

EDEN, CALIFORNIA

TUESDAY, MAY 30, 7:30 P.M.

Tom found Liza in Hayley’s room holding the baby an hour and a half later and his heart . . . hurt. Some of it was sad hurt, because he couldn’t help but think about what Tory would have looked like holding their baby. He didn’t think Liza would fault him for that.

But most of it was good hurt because she looked beautiful holding that tiny bundle. She was standing, rocking the baby while she hummed a lullaby off tune.

She looked up and her expression filled with concern. She walked over to him, and he could see that the baby was sound asleep. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I was just thinking that if we ever have kids, they’ll never sing in a choir.”

She chuckled. “We don’t have the best musical genes, do we?”

He relaxed then, her simple acceptance that they’d have a family a balm to his soul.

“Of course,” she added, “if we adopt kids, we could get the next Beyoncé. They’d make us a mint and we could retire young. Or we could just adopt normal kids and make them happy.”

She’d chosen her words with such care, and he loved her for it. Yes, they’d try for kids biologically. And if they were successful, that would be great. But even if they were, there were kids out there who needed a home, and they’d provide that, too.

“How’s Hayley?” he asked. The girl was curled up on the pallet, her head in Tamar’s lap while Tamar knitted what looked like a baby blanket. “Is she all right?”

“Asleep,” Liza murmured. “She was really far along by the time we got here, so Jellybean came fast.”

Tom brushed his finger over the baby’s soft cheek. “Hi, Jellybean. It’s gonna be okay.”

Liza frowned at him. “Are your hands clean?”

“Like I’d touch a baby with dirty hands,” he scoffed. “I just washed them with soap and hot water. I had to after helping Graham get clean. Oh my God.” He shuddered.

“I know. But you know why he did it, right?”

Tom nodded, still touched by the boy’s love for his sister. “Yes. He really is a kid genius. He set up the dish and the solar panels and hooked it all up to the computer. The solar panels are trash because of Joshua, but at least Graham got out that one message.”

“He’s a hero.” She met his eyes. “You want to hold her?”