The door flew open, and Mrs. Mercer rushed in, followed by her husband. They’d obviously dressed in a hurry—Mr. Mercer still had on the ratty UC Davis T-shirt he often wore to bed, and Mrs. Mercer had pulled on sweatpants and a wine-stained blouse that looked like it’d been at the top of a laundry hamper. Thayer and Laurel both stood to meet them. Emma’s grandmother embraced Laurel tightly, her lips an anxious line in her face. Mr. Mercer, meanwhile, grabbed Thayer in a bear hug. Thayer looked embarrassed, but he patted Mr. Mercer on the back and smiled weakly.

Emma watched them from the sofa, her heart aching. For the first time, she thought she fully understood how they’d felt after finding out who she really was. She had done to them exactly what Ethan had done to her—she’d pretended to be someone she wasn’t. She couldn’t blame them for wanting her out of their lives.

But then Mr. Mercer let go of Thayer, his eyes shining as he sat beside Emma, and pulled her into an embrace.

For just a moment she went stiff in his arms. Then her body started to tremble, and she put her arms around his neck. Tears prickled her eyes. “I’m so sorry for everything,” she murmured, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

“I know,” he whispered, rocking her back and forth. “It’s going to be okay.”

Emma didn’t know if anything would ever be okay again. Having Mr. Mercer’s shoulder to cry on was a comfort she didn’t deserve, yet she couldn’t bring herself to pull away.

That was the thing about family. They were a comfort none of us deserved. I thought about the last angry words I’d said to my father, and the constant bickering with my mom while I was still alive. But they loved me anyway, no matter what I’d done.

Finally Mrs. Mercer settled on the couch next to Emma, her hands twisting around each other nervously. She gave Emma a lingering, uncertain look, then took her hand. Her blue eyes were serious and piercing.

“It’s not fair that you’ve been facing all of this alone,” she said softly. “I’m still struggling to understand it all . . . but I know you must have been terrified this whole time.”

Emma nodded, tears prickling her eyes again. “I wanted to tell you so badly.”

Mrs. Mercer squeezed her hand. “There’s a lot we’ll have to get used to. Do you think you can give us time to work through all these feelings?”

Emma frowned up at her. “Time?”

“We lost two daughters,” Mr. Mercer said, his voice breaking. “We don’t want to lose another.”