And then he was gone, Daisy in his wake.

Rafe glanced at Farrah, who looked like she was about to cry. “What is this about family in New Orleans?” he asked gently. “Tell me what you can, so I can help her.”

Farrah closed her eyes briefly, then looked up at him. “They have a bunch of half siblings who live in New Orleans. That’s why she landed there. Her maternal grandmother told her that her paternal grandparents had come searching for them years ago, and left their address. Mercy didn’t actually meet any of the sibs for almost two years, even though she knew where they were. She was so afraid that they’d reject her. I think that she needed to know that our family had unconditionally accepted her before she had the courage to confront her blood.”

“But they did not reject her?” Irina asked cautiously.

“No. They all love her. Their family is almost as big as mine. Four half brothers and two half sisters, plus seven nieces and five nephews. Mercy has loved being their auntie. She babysits them and takes care of them. Tutors them.” Her smile was wistful. “Spoils them rotten.”

God. Six half siblings and all their families. No wonder Gideon needs time. That news was quite the bombshell.

Rafe put the remaining pieces together. “She didn’t tell Gideon about them because she was angry with him, because she didn’t know that he’d run from Eden after he’d been abused, too.”

“I guess so. I thought he knew about John and the sibs. I really did. I just figured that Gideon didn’t want to see them, like Mercy hasn’t wanted to see him.”

“She told you that she’d told Gideon about them?” Irina asked. “She . . . lied?”

Farrah sighed. “Not actually, now that I go back over our conversations in my mind. But she let me believe it. I should go to her now. This is why I’m here—to put her back together again.”

Rafe stood, grabbing his cane. “I’ll go in first. Maybe you can fix her a plate?”

Farrah studied him for a moment, then nodded. “That I can do.”

GRANITE BAY, CALIFORNIA

SATURDAY, APRIL 15, 9:20 P.M.

Mercy’s head jerked up at the light knock on the door. She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there, crying like a foolish child. Dinner had to be over and Karl probably wanted his office back. Drawing a breath, she swiped at her wet cheeks with the back of her hand. “I’ll be out in just a second,” she called.

“Mercy, it’s me,” a deep voice said.

Rafe. Fucking hell. She did not want him to see her like this. She did have a little pride, after all.

No, you have too much pride. Which was to blame for this whole mess. She could have told Gideon about their half siblings at any time—any time over the last six weeks, any one of the birthdays or Christmases that he’d called her since she’d met them, or simply any other time. She’d always had his phone number.