In a fluid movement that stole her breath, Gideon was on his feet and she was in his arms. He was sobbing—silently, but so hard that his body shook with it. Mercy closed her eyes and clung, vaguely aware of scraping chairs and fading footsteps as the kitchen cleared, leaving them alone to weep and mourn the loss of their mother, of their childhoods, of the time together that they’d lost.

“I missed you,” he finally said, brokenly. “God, Mercy, I missed you.”

She squeezed hard. “I missed you, too. But I’m here now.”

He lifted his head, his face wrecked, but smiling. “You are. Because you’re already brave. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

It was exactly what she’d needed to hear. “Thank you.”

GRANITE BAY, CALIFORNIA

SUNDAY, APRIL 16, 8:45 P.M.

Well. That’s interesting. Ephraim stared at his laptop screen, at the results that had come up from his search on the license plate he’d noted as the scrawny kid and his mother had driven away from the Sokolov house.

The old car was registered to Geri Bunker, according to the database he’d used Sean MacGuire’s credit card to access. And a background check, also funded with MacGuire’s card, showed her only relative to be Jeffrey Bunker.

Jeffrey Bunker, who was the author of the extremely unflattering exposé he’d read at Granny’s house that morning. The one with the video that had been taken down before Ephraim could view it.

At least it explained Detective Sokolov’s near assault on the kid, who was some kind of prodigy, already halfway through his college degree at age sixteen. Ephraim tucked the knowledge away for future use. If Sokolov had that kind of temper, Ephraim could use it to his own advantage.

His attention was diverted from his screen by activity at the Sokolov house. The tall blond guy in a dark suit emerged from the front door, receiving a hug from Mrs. Sokolov before he jogged to a black SUV, parked on the curb. It was the same Fed whose earlier arrival had prompted Ephraim to seek safer shelter. He’d left, then come back, and Ephraim wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

The small Asian woman who’d been involved in the scuffle with Jeff Bunker got into a Range Rover, but sat waiting while the black SUV drove away.

The garage door opened, revealing the gray Chevy Suburban that had brought Gideon, Detective Sokolov, and Mercy to the Sokolovs’ house earlier that day. Ephraim got busy, packing his computer into the backpack he’d had delivered earlier that day.

Thank you, Amazon. He’d ordered the backpack and a few other trinkets, using MacGuire’s credit card to pay for one-hour delivery. It had taken an hour and a half, but that was still impressive, especially on a Sunday. He’d miss the little conveniences of the world when he headed back to Eden.

He peered into the backpack, ensuring that he had everything he needed, especially if he wasn’t able to come back here. If he got Mercy tonight, he’d be long gone.