Mercy blinked. “Thousands, at least. Rafe?”

“At least.” He did a search on his own phone. “Twenty thousand books, give or take.”

Abigail’s eyes were like saucers. “Really?”

“Really.” Mercy glanced at Rafe while she purchased the book, then downloaded it, grateful that the ICU had lifted its rule against cell phones. “You want to read or do you want me to?”

Abigail looked over at Amos. “I want to. I want him to hear me. Can I hold your phone?”

“Of course.” Mercy showed her how to swipe, amazed at the child’s ability to absorb new things so quickly. Cuddling her close, she kissed Abigail’s hair and listened as she read to Amos with a strong, steady voice.

Gradually, though, Abigail’s voice grew softer, sleepier, and Mercy had to rescue her phone when it slipped from the little girl’s small hands. “I need to get her back to your parents,” Mercy murmured to Rafe, before realizing that he’d fallen asleep, too.

“We’re here,” Irina said from the doorway, Karl at her side. “We were waiting for her to finish before we took her home.” She aimed an affectionate look at the sleeping Rafe before coming in to crouch by the chair. “Abigail?” She gave the child’s shoulder a light shake. “Time to go home with me and sleep in a real bed, okay?”

Abigail murmured something unintelligible, snuggling into Karl when he lifted her into his arms.

“You can come back tomorrow,” Karl whispered, then gave Mercy an unsteady smile. “How are you doing?”

“I’m okay. Sore, but okay.” She glanced at Amos, who was unchanged. “I think it’ll start sinking in soon, but right now, I’m okay.” She realized she’d said “okay” three times. “Well, maybe not so okay.”

Balancing Abigail on his hip with one hand, Karl cupped Mercy’s cheek with the other. “You did well today. You stood up to Ephraim, faced your worst fear, and you won.”

She looked over at Amos. “At what price?”

“He will pull through,” Irina said stubbornly. “You must have faith, lubimaya.”

“What does that mean?” Mercy asked. “Lubimaya?”

“Beloved,” Karl answered. “It means you are loved.”

Mercy’s eyes stung. Not again. She would not cry any more. So she forced herself to smile. “Spasibo,” she said, pronouncing it the way she’d found online, then stood to hug Irina. “Thank you.”

Irina beamed. “You said it right the first time. Now, I suppose you will stay here tonight.”

“Yes, ma’am. I don’t want him to wake up and be alone.”

“Then Rafe will stay with you,” she said. “I won’t even try to wake him up. He won’t leave you anyway.”

She and Karl left, taking Abigail with them, but no sooner had they left than Gideon arrived. She hadn’t seen him since they’d all given their statements to Molina’s second-in-command.

Five agents were dead: four SWAT members and Agent Schumacher. All shot by DJ Belmont. Who was still out there, free as a damn bird.

She hadn’t really allowed herself to think about DJ yet. She didn’t have the mental energy now, so she shoved thoughts of him into the box in her mind and visualized herself hammering down the lid. One thing at a time. Deal with Amos first, and then she could focus on DJ, because the bastard was still out there and he would be back. But not tonight, at least. The FBI had posted guards in the ICU, so she didn’t have to worry that DJ could get to them. For now, she could just worry about the people she loved.