“Right,” Croft murmured. “Your friends have suffered at the hands of this Eden group.”

“They have,” Tom agreed grimly. “And they’re trying to get on with their lives, but it’s hard, knowing that DJ might be back.”

“So let’s find DJ and Eden,” Croft said, making it sound so simple.

Tom smiled down at her. “Yes, ma’am. Cameron needs to request that his article be taken down and I need to get his e-mail password, then we can go to see Amos.”

THREE

FOLSOM, CALIFORNIA

WEDNESDAY, MAY 24, 11:00 A.M.

You didn’t have to come with us today,” Mercy murmured, her gaze locked on the small girl who was dubiously gazing up at the rows of eyeglasses on the wall. “It’s your first day of vacation before nursing school.”

“Of course I did. I promised Abigail that I’d be here to help her pick her new glasses.” But also to help protect Mercy and the little girl, because their lives were in danger every time they left the safety of their house. “Besides, I need a new pair of frames.” She dug her glasses from her handbag and held them up. “These are . . .”

“Ugly?” Abigail offered over her shoulder, an impish grin on her face.

“Abigail!” Mercy scolded, but Liza laughed.

“Very ugly,” she agreed. “Military issue. I can’t believe I waited this long to replace them.”

“Because you can wear contact lenses,” Abigail groused. “I wish I could have contacts, too.”

“When you’re older,” Mercy promised. “Which I hope doesn’t happen for a while.”

Abigail shot her stepsister a look that was far too wise for a girl of seven. “Because you want me to be a normal kid.”

Liza’s heart contracted painfully, but before she could say a word, Mercy was on her knees in front of Abigail, hands on the little girl’s shoulders. Amos had been a stepfather to Mercy and was Abigail’s father in fact. Liza didn’t think Mercy could have loved the child any more if they had been sisters by blood.

“You are a normal kid,” Mercy assured her. “I want you to be a happy kid. And a safe kid.”

“I am happy.” Abigail’s eyes brightened. “I’d be happier with contact lenses.”

Mercy chuckled and pulled her close for a hug. “The doctor said to wait until you’re ten.”

“But you have them. And so does Liza.”

“We’re older than ten,” Liza said. “By quite a bit.”

Abigail sighed heavily. “But ten . . . That’s forever.”

“I hope so,” Mercy murmured. “You have a lot of fun to catch up on.” She rose to her feet. “But right now, we’re shopping for new glasses. I can’t believe you managed as well as you have without them all this time.”

Abigail shrugged. “Nobody back home had glasses except for the really old people.”

Back home. Eden.

Liza could see the sudden tension in Mercy’s shoulders. And, apparently, so could Abigail, because the child flinched. “I mean back there, Mercy. Home is here. With Papa and you and Rafe and Miss Irina and Mr. Karl.” She lowered her eyes, studying the floor. “I’m sorry.”