“Mercy,” Zoya said quietly. “You are family now. I know all about what happened to Gideon. I can connect the dots to know what happened to you.”

Gideon’s eyes had widened. “How? How did you know?”

The young woman shook her head. “Everyone thinks I just go to my room or go to a friend’s house because I’m told to. If I did that, I’d never learn anything about anyone in this house. So if I’m also a member of this family—and I am, because we did DNA testing in my biology class and I am fully your kid—then I want to be here. I want to help.”

Mercy shrugged. “It’s up to you, Irina.”

Irina dropped her chin, her shoulders sagging. Then she turned to face them, wiping her hands with a dishcloth. “When did my baby grow up?”

“Six weeks ago,” Zoya said without a trace of sarcasm.

Six weeks ago, when all the Eden shit had been resurrected after Daisy tore a locket from the throat of a serial killer.

“Fair enough, dochka maya.” Irina sat next to Karl. “So, what steps are required to . . .” She lifted her brows. “Take the motherfucker down?”

“Love you, Mom,” Zoya said, her cheeks dimpling again. “You are badass.”

“Don’t push your luck, Zoya,” Irina warned, her own cheeks growing rosy with undisguised pleasure at her daughter’s compliment.

Mercy dabbed at her eyes. “My mother was badass, too. She was . . . brave. I mean, even to pick up and go to Eden at the beginning was brave. She was nineteen and scared with two kids to feed. She made a choice that should have been a good one, but it wasn’t and she did her best to save us.”

Gideon had gone dangerously still, his eyes glittering with tears of his own. “I want Ephraim to pay,” he growled. “If that’s life behind bars, so be it, but I want his life over. And then, we go after that prick DJ Belmont.”

“He killed our mother,” Mercy told the rest of the family. “And I guess I need to tell you about how that happened.”

“You don’t have to tell us anything,” Karl said gruffly, one arm around Irina’s shoulders, holding her to him as if she were the most precious thing in his life. Which she was, and that made Mercy so damn happy.

It also made Mercy want the same. And that nearly had her freezing with fear, but she breathed through it. Someday. Someday she’d have a lover, know that she had his unconditional support. It might even be Rafe. But for now she just let herself . . . belong.

Farrah caught her eye and gave her a knowing smile. “Took you long enough,” she muttered.

Zoya bumped shoulders with Mercy. “You’re stuck with us, Mercy. Like it or not.”

Mercy liked it. She liked it a lot. There was strength here, free, easy, and available for the taking. The sharing. It was there with the Romeros, too. Just as free and easy. And she’d taken strength from them, from all of them. But this was different. And the reason why was like a bolt of lightning.