Blinking and wiping away the tear streaks, Nicola took a deep breath. Then another. Until she could inhale and exhale. Her chest felt lighter. The weight of her ice-cold guilt melted.

Her mom grasped her by the shoulders. “We love you.”

“And we understand,” her father tacked on.

All she could do was nod, knocked over again by the emotional blow. The tears started again. Her sight blurred.

“None of that now. This is a happy day,” her mom said, wiping at her eyes. Her dad nodded.

They smiled. Really, truly smiled. She couldn’t feel any hatred toward their lying daughter. She didn’t see it in their expressions. They simply held her.

Roman walked outside, stood next to Cash, and she tried for a weak smile. It came easier than she’d expected.

“Why don’t you bring this whole thing inside before the neighbors get too nosey,” Roman suggested, then laughed. “Nic always could make a big entrance.”

Then she did smile without having to try, and she laughed, loving her brother more in that moment than she ever had.

“All right. In, in.” Her mother shooed everyone in the door, keeping an arm wrapped around her, directing her to the living room. “I hope you’re hungry, angel.”

Angel. She’d never thought she’d hear her mom call her nickname again.

The house smelled delicious and familiar. Nicola sighed, sitting on the same couch in the same spot as always. Cash settled down beside her, an arm thrown over her shoulder. For a second, her stomach jumped. Her parents didn’t know about her and Cash. Not before, and she wasn’t sure how to define them now, other than that they were a they.

Her overprotective father didn’t bounce a sideways glance when he kicked back across from her.

In the background, she heard Roman rifling through the pantry, asking their mother where the snacks were. It all felt so normal.

Mom brought dad and Cash beers and Nic an orange juice, knowing that she would need her odd comfort drink. She’d drunk gallons of OJ with her mom over the years, rehashing teenage drama.

“Thanks, mom.”

Roman walked in, beer and dip in hand, potato chips under an arm.

“So CIA, Nicky?” Dad always called her Nicky. Drove her crazy until right now. He looked proud.

Nodding, she tried to think of what to say. “Yeah—”

“Little sister’s a spy. Who’d a thunk it?” Roman laughed, stuffing chips and dip in at the same time. “And from what I’ve seen, she could give James Bond a run for his money.”

“Double-Oh-Seven here can shoot and fight with the big boys,” Cash said, giving her a squeeze.

The guys were bragging on her. Not what she’d expected and her cheeks heated.

“Well, as long as you’re safe, angel. That’s what I tell the boys as well. The three of you are safe out there, right?”

Roman, Cash, and Nicola all nodded some version of, “yes ma’am, yes mom, you got it.” Mom smiled ear to ear.