“That’s Sasha, I take it?” Farrah drawled.

Nervously Mercy scanned the waiting crowd for Rafe, but he wasn’t with his sister. Relief left her a little dizzy, even as disappointment sat like lead in her gut. Why would he come to meet her? She’d left him without a single word. “Yeah. I, um, didn’t know she’d be meeting us. I didn’t even tell her which flight we were on.”

Because she hadn’t wanted Sasha to meet them. She hadn’t wanted anyone to meet them. She needed time to prepare herself for the hard conversations that lay ahead.

“Mercy!” Sasha shouted, waving her rainbow sign. “Over here!” Not willing to wait—for much of anything—Sasha charged, sidestepping several travelers like a running back dancing upfield.

Farrah laughed. “I think this is gonna be fun.”

Mercy had just braced herself for impact when Sasha grabbed her in a fierce hug, lifting her to her toes. “I’m so glad to see you,” Sasha whispered, then pulled away, holding her hand out to Farrah. “I’m Sasha.”

Farrah bypassed Sasha’s hand, going for the hug, and Sasha made a happy sound. “I’m Farrah. Thank you for meeting us.”

Sasha stepped back with a mock glare for Mercy. “It wasn’t easy. I’ve been here for hours, waiting on every flight that could possibly have started in or transferred from New Orleans.”

“I’m sorry,” Mercy mumbled.

Sasha waved her apology away. “Introduce us properly, Mercy.”

“Sasha, this is my best friend, Dr. Farrah Romero. Farrah, Sasha Sokolov.”

Sasha lifted her perfectly arched brows. “Doctor?”

“I’m a biophysicist,” Farrah explained. “I work for a university.”

Sasha nodded. “Very cool. If you’re willing, I’d love for you to chat with my youngest sister, Zoya. She wants to be a doctor. A medical doctor, I think, but she’s only seventeen, so . . .”

Farrah smiled. “I’d be happy to talk to her.”

“Excellent.” Sasha shook her head. “Where are my manners?” She took a cat carrier in each hand and gave a low whistle. “Shit, Mercy, how many cats you got in here? And are they sitting on bricks?”

Farrah nodded. “Right? They’re behemoths.”

Mercy made herself smile, because her anxiety was beginning to build again. There were too many people here. Too much noise.

“Hey,” Farrah murmured, sensing her tension. “Go sit down. I’ll get our bags.”

Mercy shook her head. “I’ll go get our rental car and meet you at the pickup curb.”

“Nope,” Sasha said. “No renting of cars needed. I drove my father’s SUV today, which you will be borrowing while you’re here. He never drives it anymore, not since he got the Tesla.”

Tesla? Really? Farrah mouthed.

“Karl owns a successful marketing agency,” Mercy told her, then turned to Sasha. “That’s not necessary, really.”

Sasha gave her a long, long look. “Yes, it is. Gideon is family. You are Gideon’s sister. Therefore, you are family, and no family of ours rents a car when they visit.”

“I’ll be here for a while,” Mercy said, flailing for some argument she could make stick in the face of the tsunami that was Sasha Sokolov.