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"Don't tell Nate I called."
"I won't," Sophie promised Parker before she hung up the phone. She looked at it for a moment. She missed her. Really missed her.
Sophie had walked away from so many people in her life and maybe there were fleeting moments when she missed them or briefly wondered how things might have been if she'd stayed, but she would quickly move on to the next excitement and those thoughts never lingered.
This time was different. She was having fun and visiting all of her favorite places, but it wasn't capturing her attention the way it always had before. The moments when she missed them weren't fleeting. They were deep and painful and it felt like she had left part of herself in Boston with Parker and Hardison and Eliot and-
She took a large sip of her drink and pushed the thoughts away. No. There was a reason why she left and she couldn't sit here and dwell on it.
She was able to keep the thoughts away for a day. And then Eliot called. Clearly he had some reservations about Hardison's ability to grift.
"Look, Eliot. Hardison's smart and he's quick on his feet. He can pull this off."
"No, he can't. He's too cocky about it; he's going way too far. He's using some god awful accent and calling himself "the Iceman."
"The- the what? Oh, that is a terrible name."
"I know. He's driving me crazy."
"Listen, if he takes it too far, you can get him out."
"How, huh? I'm back up. They can't rely on me."
"Yes, they can, Eliot. I trust you, you can take care of this."
"Alright, alright. Hey, thanks. Don't tell Nate I called."
She laughed as she hung up the phone. Exactly what Parker had said. At least that meant Nate was taking her request for space seriously, though it wasn't really them that she had needed space from.
This time her reprieve from thinking about the others lasted only about an hour. The bizarre voice on the other end of the phone threw her for a moment.
"Hardison? Are you calling me in character?"
"I told you, butternut. It's work. I can't get out of it."
Eliot hadn't been kidding about the god awful accent.
"What accent is that?" she asked bemused, before it suddenly dawned on her what was happening. "Oh, you've been nabbed."
"Afraid so."
"Is it the mark?"
"No. No, muffin, no."
"It's the goons," she groaned. "You oversold the part."
Apparently, Eliot had been right about that as well.
"Look, don't worry about it. It happens all the time. As long as they're not Russians."
"It's going to be a bit of a problem."
"It's the Russians?" Sophie exclaimed. Honestly, she'd only been gone a few days. How had things fallen apart this badly already? "I'm going to have to phone Nate."
"Leave it off, crumpet."
When the situation was less perilous, they were going to have a long talk about how people spoke in England.
"No, no, no, listen. Hardison, you cannot talk your way out of Russians. I mean, you can stall them maybe for a bit, but whatever you do, do not tell them you can do anything else."
The moment she hung up the phone, she dialed Nate's number. He picked up on the second ring.
"Sophie? Uh, how-"
"Nate, this isn't a social call. It's Hardison. He's been kidnapped by the Russians."
"He's what?"
"He just called me. He oversold and the henchmen picked him up. You have to get him out of there, Nate."
"He called you?"
"Now is really not the time to be jealous. His cover's flimsy. He's been making all sorts of wild claims and it's not going to take long for them to realize he's not what he says he is. You have to get him out before that happens."
"Right. I've got it."
She put the phone down and sat back, trying to push them all out of her mind. She told herself that they were fine, they could handle it, but it was useless.
She was nursing a drink at the bar when her phone rang again.
"Sophie?"
"Parker!" She heard Eliot's voice in the background. "He told us not to call her."
There were the sounds of a scuffle and a whispered argument on the other end of the line.
"Hey! Hey, what's going on?"
"Sorry, Sophie," Eliot said. "Nate told us not to call."
Sophie sighed. "Eliot, it's fine. You can call when you need to."
"See, I told you she wouldn't mind!" Parker said triumphantly and, if the sound of Eliot's exclamation was anything to go by, she snatched the phone back from him.
"The Russians want Hardison to break into Keritty's vault but their plan is amateur," she scoffed. "A child knows you can't blow the floor on a vault with motion sensors."
"Nate's gone to try and get a look at the vault," Eliot explained. "To see if we can find a way in for Hardison."
"He's not a good thief though," Parker pointed out. "I mean, he's a good computer thief but he can't do what I do. Sophie, he told them he stole the Rosalind. And the Polar Star! As if he could ever get past the-"
"Alright, Parker!" Eliot snapped. "Stay on topic, we're trying to save his life. Soph, we're a five-person team. We can't-"
"You can," she interrupted him. "Look, if I were there my part of the con would be done already. Breaking into the vault is your thing. Nate will come up with a plan and you'll be able to do it because this is what you do, and you're both very good at what you do, right?"
"Right," they both agreed, reluctantly.
"It just doesn't feel right without you," Parker complained. "Everything's all… all screwy."
Sophie smiled sadly. "I know, Parker. I miss you all, I really do. But you've got this. And hey, call me and let me know when he's safe, okay?"
They agreed and she hung up the phone, hoping that she was right.
She was, and a call from Eliot, Parker, and Hardison confirmed it. Although it was difficult to get much sense from them while they talked on top of each other and argued among themselves about just how much Hardison had screwed it up and who had saved the day.
She'd not long put the phone down when it rang again and she stared at the caller ID in surprise.
Her conversation with Nate fixed one problem at least. It reminded her why she left and why she needed some space. Dropping the phone into the drink had been satisfying, if a little dramatic, and she hoped that it would let her put them all out of her mind at last.
She hoped in vain. It was nearly one in the morning but she couldn't sleep, visions of one of them captured and in trouble again and unable to reach her plaguing her thoughts.
They were adults, she reminded herself. Intelligent, capable adults. They would be fine.
Groaning, she got out of bed and opened her laptop to send a message.
My phone's broken. Video call if you need me. Do not give this number to Nate.
As it turned out, Nate didn't need the number. A few days later, he appeared at her apartment door and scared her half to death. She was sure he'd only come to tell her that a job had gone badly wrong, but no. He flew all the way to London to tell her to come back and then couldn't even answer a simple question.
She stared at the ticket for a long time after he left. She considered it for a moment. God, she missed them. Part of her wanted nothing more than to go back, but she knew it wouldn't be like before. There was still something missing, something she needed to find by herself, and trying to go back to normal would only make it worse.
He was right about one thing, though. Their quartet really wasn't working out. She'd been the buffer between Nate and the others for so long and she knew that, if she just left them to carry on, she'd always be waiting for the time when Nate took it too far and he really did arrive to tell her someone was dead.
Finally making a decision, she pulled out her phone.
"Tara? Yeah, about that favor you owe me."
Tara never could do things the simple way, Sophie thought with a sigh, as Eliot, Hardison, and Parker filled her in on what had happened.
"Look, we didn't get along when we first started. And Eliot, how long did it take before you trusted me?" Sophie was a little concerned by his silence. She knew he'd been the angriest at the David debacle, but she'd thought they were long past that by now. "Eliot? You do trust me, don't you?"
"That's not the point, Sophie. If Nate doesn't like this chick, then it's not going to work."
"Which is why you've got to get him on board. Look, you need a grifter. The last time one of you tried to grift, you wound up kidnapped by Russians," she reminded them.
This was clearly still a sore spot, as Eliot and Parker were very quick to point out that that had been all Hardison.
"Listen to me," she said firmly before it could dissolve into an argument. "Tara Cole is the best. I wouldn't have sent her if I didn't trust her. I know you're going to love her. So, just give her a chance."
She rolled her eyes when they began discussing Tara's hotness, but at least it suggested that they were warming up to the idea.
Sophie smiled at them softly. "Just do it for me, huh? So I don't have to worry about you?"
They all nodded but, before they could say anything else, voices behind them and Eliot's uncharacteristically awkward "Touchdown!" alerted her to Nate's arrival.
"I just miss you," Parker said quietly, and the screen went black.
"Oh, Parker. I miss you too."
And she did. She missed all of them. She'd never felt this way before. She paused. No, that wasn't true. She'd felt it once before, after they'd done the job on Nate's old boss and the crew had scattered. And then she'd invited them all to her play because she wanted them back. Needed them back. She'd convinced herself that she was bored and that it was the thrill of the jobs they did together that she wanted; nothing she pulled off alone could be quite so exhilarating. But she'd been lying to herself. She'd known that, truthfully, but she'd continued to insist that it was the job, not the people, that she needed. Needing people in her line of work was bad. She needed to keep moving and keep reinventing herself. Attachments could get you killed.
Her friendships had been carefully crafted exchanges of favors. She liked some of them, even trusted a few, but she called them in when she needed something and otherwise she didn't think much about them. But she couldn't stop thinking about Hardison and Parker and Eliot. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't stop worrying about how they were and if they were safe or if Nate was flying off the rails again. She'd thought that sending Tara in would fix the problem. She'd promised to warn her if things were getting out of hand, so she should be able to enjoy herself without worrying.
She groaned and dropped her head into her hands. She felt better for having Tara there, but it hadn't alleviated all her worries as she'd hoped.
"Clémence!" a voice exclaimed behind her. "Ça va?"
She sat up quickly and pushed every thought of Boston and Sophie Devereaux to the back of her mind. She wasn't Sophie Devereaux now and Sophie Devereaux's problems should not concern her.
"Bien, Pierre, et toi? Ça fait longtemps!"
If she'd thought sending Tara to Boston would stop all the calls, she'd clearly been wrong. First, she'd had to talk Tara out of quitting, and her description of Nate as 'sexy' was just another thing for her to try not to dwell on.
Then she'd had another call from Eliot, Parker, and Hardison debriefing her on the latest con. And the explosion. And the triads. And their cleavers.
She wasn't stupid, she knew what they did was dangerous, but there was something different about hearing it second hand and not being there to make sure it all went smoothly.
She remembered what Hardison had said to her when she'd been stuck out in the van with him after her fake funeral. He'd said that they trusted Nate to make sure the plan worked, but they trusted her to make sure they were all okay.
So, what happened when she walked away and wasn't there to make sure of that? She trusted Tara but, though she liked them well enough and was impressed by their skills, Tara didn't care about them the way she did. She wouldn't protect them the way Sophie had.
As usual, just when she had almost made up her mind that it would be better if she went back, Nate reminded her why she wouldn't. As he started ranting at her, complaining about her interfering with 'his crew', she hung up. At least one benefit of being gone was that she didn't have to listen to that anymore.
She hadn't heard from them in a while. She told herself that was a good thing. It meant no one was being held hostage for the moment and she should be able to put Boston out of her mind and focus on what she was doing.
She was standing at the back of the room, scowling at a lily. It was cheap and nearly dead. Was this really all… she panicked for a moment as she realized she'd forgotten which one this was, and she glanced down at the program in her hand.
In memoriam. Giovanna Fierro.
Oh, Giovanna. Giovanna had been fun. She'd nearly married a count.
"How did you know Giovanna?" a woman asked her in Italian, and Sophie peered at her through the black lace veil on her hat.
"We were... old friends," she smiled.
A man, Roberto, moved to the front of the room to give the eulogy. It was beautiful, she supposed, but it was empty somehow. It was her face staring at her from the large canvas beside him, but there was nothing of her in his words.
It made her think of the others at her funeral back in Boston. Even stumbling over an unfamiliar name and knowing she wasn't actually dead, their words had been more real than his.
She slipped out of the room before he'd finished.
As she pulled off her hat and dumped it on the dresser back at her hotel room, her computer beeped. Taking a few deep breaths and doing her best to bury her swirling emotions, she answered the call.
Hardison and Parker's faces appeared on her screen. They looked worried and she frowned.
"Hi Sophie," Hardison said quietly, glancing behind him, and her frown deepened.
"What's wrong?"
"Uh… uh…"
Before Hardison could get an answer out, Eliot came into the frame.
"Dammit, Hardison! We said we wouldn't bother her. There's nothing she can do anyway."
"What is it?" She was really concerned now, and they all looked at each other nervously for a few moments.
"We pulled off the wire in an hour and a half," Hardison said eventually.
"An hour and a half?" Sophie repeated in surprise. "For the wire? That's impressive."
"We're good," Hardison said with a smile, but the three were still exchanging nervous glances and Sophie sighed.
"I figure that's not why you're calling."
"We agreed that we wouldn't call," Eliot said, glaring at Hardison and Parker.
"We had to call," Parker protested. "We need her!"
"Why do you need me, Parker?"
The shifty, uncomfortable glances were back and Sophie sighed again.
"Come on, out with it. What's happened?"
"Uh, Nate was running the con in the bar and then he…" Hardison trailed off.
"He's drunk, Sophie," Eliot said, his voice somewhere between anger and resignation.
Sophie couldn't say that she was surprised, honestly, living above a bar was just asking for trouble, but she'd been hopeful. He hadn't had a drink in a long time.
"Sophie?" Hardison said.
"Yes. I-" She didn't know what to say to them. She wanted to tell them not to worry and that everything would be okay, but that would be a lie, and not one that any of them would believe.
"You need to come home, Sophie," Parker insisted. "Tara's…" she searched for the right word. "... fine. But she's not you and she can't deal with him like you can."
The now-familiar internal battle was being waged within her. The part of her that desperately wanted to go back to Boston and to be the person that they could rely on to keep them safe, against the part of her that just couldn't face it.
"I can't, Parker."
"Fine," Parker responded and disappeared from the screen. In the background, Sophie heard a door slam.
Hardison vanished next and Eliot sat and stared at her for a moment.
"I hope you find it, Soph. Whatever it is you're looking for."
Then Eliot was gone too and Sophie was left wondering if she really knew what it was herself.
There were a few moments of awkwardness when Eliot and Hardison called from Kiev. Sophie tried to speak, feeling like she should try to explain. Although, how she could explain what she was doing when she was so mixed up about it she didn't know.
After a couple of false starts, she settled on simply smiling and asking how they were. They smiled back and, though their last, tense conversation went unaddressed, they fell back into their familiar rhythm.
They brought her up to speed on the job and assured her that Maggie was perfectly fine and that, yes, they were all being nice to Tara.
She was excited when they held up the blank card to show her. Zanzibar marketplaces were always a thrill. She almost wished she was there.
She pushed that thought away as soon as it came and focused on explaining how the marketplace worked, until she heard Nate's voice in the background. She made a hasty 'cut the feed' gesture and Hardison closed the laptop.
She did sort of wish that she was there. Besides the fact that she truly did miss them all desperately, she was bored. The places and people that she had always found so fascinating seemed so dull now. But there was a reason she told Hardison to hide her and there was a reason she had stayed away, however much it hurt.
She picked up her black, veiled hat and adjusted it in the mirror. Hopefully this time she'd at least have better flowers.
There had been five voicemails. Five. All variations of drunk, pleading, and mad, and none of them saying anything she wanted to hear. Even if she secretly suspected he might be right that she wouldn't figure out who she was by roaming the world and hiding away.
Her phone buzzed with another message and she barely resisted the urge to toss it out the window.
"If that's Nate again…" she muttered, but, when she picked it up, she smiled.
It wasn't Nate. It was a text message from Hardison with a picture of a delighted Eliot wearing a baseball uniform and holding a sandwich.
Eliot wanted you to know that he's a famous baseball player now and they named a sandwich after him.
She grinned and shook her head. Eliot really was a man of many hidden talents. She quickly texted back.
Tell him I'm very proud.
When Tara called, there was no question, no hesitation. As soon as she'd explained what had happened, Sophie was pulling together her plan and running out the door.
After they'd told her about Nate's drinking, she'd found herself spending more time in America. She'd been worried something like this might happen and the idea of being hours and oceans away if it did made her anxious in an entirely unfamiliar way.
So, when the call came, she'd been in New York and it hadn't taken long to call in a favor from an old friend and arrange a helicopter for a dramatic rescue.
When Nate called, she was halfway to Boston and the poor reception meant she struggled to make sense of what he was saying.
"Nate?"
It was useless, the signal was terrible. But she heard enough.
I need you.
She wanted to tell him that she was coming. That everything was going to be fine. But she still couldn't hear him and then the phone cut out. She cursed and tried to call him back but, eventually, she gave up and shoved the phone into her pocket. She'd see him in a few hours. She'd rescue them. All of them.
Eliot waited for her. She wasn't sure if he was afraid to leave her alone with Sterling or afraid to leave her alone with Nate but, either way, she was grateful. Her eyes were clouded with tears but Eliot's hand, firm and gentle on her lower back, steered her in the right direction and into the helicopter. He glanced back at the boat one more time and then followed her inside.
They took off almost immediately, and the sound of the sirens descending on Nate was drowned out. Hardison handed her a handkerchief and she smiled gratefully but no one spoke. Between Sophie's unexpected return and the sudden loss of Nate, they were all awash with a complex mess of emotion that none of them could articulate.
It was Parker who broke the silence at last.
"Are you going to leave again?"
Sophie didn't answer right away. Truthfully, she hadn't thought that far ahead. As soon as she'd gotten the call from Tara, she'd been consumed with the need to get to Boston. To get to them. She hadn't considered whether she was going to stay.
Looking around at their faces, she found she had a clarity that she hadn't achieved in all her months of 'finding herself'. It hit her all of a sudden and it was strange because it was a revelation, one she'd been hoping for for months, but, at the same time, it was so obvious that she couldn't believe it had taken until now to see it. She knew who she was. She'd known for a long time. And it didn't matter who she'd been before, her original identity or the hundreds of others that had come after, it was who she was now that was important. She was Sophie Devereaux, unconventional mother figure to a trio of thieves. A trio who were looking at her now with forlorn expressions, as though their hearts would break if she said yes.
"No, Parker. No. I'm not going anywhere."
Their faces brightened immediately.
"Really? You're staying?" Hardison checked, with a pleased by hesitant smile.
"Yes, I'm staying. For as long as you need me."
"So, did you find yourself then?" Parker questioned. "That's what Nate said you were doing."
"Yes, I think I did," Sophie said, nodding. "But it turns out, I was looking in all the wrong places. I knew who I was all along, really. I'm Sophie Devereaux."
They all smiled.
"Then, Sophie is your real name?" asked Parker.
"It's the one that matters," Sophie told her. "But my birth name is Lara."
"Lara," Parker said slowly. "Laaaa-raaaa."
She frowned. "It's really pretty, I like it. It's just, it's… it's not you. It would be weird to call you Lara."
Hardison nodded in agreement.
"I mean, we will if you want," Eliot said quickly. "But she's right. It's weird."
Sophie shook her head. "No, I told you, remember. I'm Sophie Devereaux. Lara doesn't matter any more than Charlotte or Elise or Isabella or Marie. I'm Sophie."
She grinned mischievously as an idea occurred to her. "Although, Nate doesn't know my original name and it would drive him out of his mind if he thought you were all using it."
Hardison laughed. "Oh, he'd be so mad."
"We could have some fun with that," Eliot concurred with a smirk.
"Yeah," Parker agreed, but then she frowned. "But you're still Sophie, right?"
Sophie smiled at her and nodded. "Yes, Parker. I'm still Sophie."
Without talking, or even really thinking about it, they all ended up back at Nate's apartment. Hardison put some sci-fi show on the TV, but no one was paying much attention. Parker hopped from chair to chair restlessly, frequently coming to land next to Sophie for a moment and reaching out to touch her hair or her shoulder, as though she needed constant confirmation that she was really there. Eliot stared at the program for a few minutes before quickly heading to the kitchen.
The stir fry he cooked up smelled amazing but Sophie wasn't sure that she was hungry. Parker wasn't sure that she was either and Hardison wanted to eat on the sofa and carry on watching his show, but Eliot wasn't having any of it. He turned off the television and cajoled them around the table before dishing up plates for everyone.
When she started eating, Sophie realized that she was starving and that Eliot really was a fantastic cook. The others had obviously realized the same thing and it was quiet, save for the sounds of cutlery on plates, as they ate.
It was Parker who broke the silence again, pausing with a forkful of noodles halfway to her lips.
"Will Nate be okay?"
Eliot nodded. "Sure. He's tough and he knew what he was doing. He'll be fine."
Hardison scoffed. "Does it matter? He lied to us all again."
Eliot glared at him across the table. "Yeah, and then he took the fall for us, Hardison. We'd all be in jail if it wasn't for him."
"He should still have told us what he was doing," Hardison argued, glaring back at him. "You don't con your own crew. How haven't we learned that by now?"
They glowered at each other and Parker looked at them.
"Will we be okay? I mean, without Nate. He's the one that's in charge and keeps us together."
"Yes, Parker," Sophie said firmly. "We're going to be fine. Nate's not the one that keeps us together, we keep each other together and I'm… I'm sorry."
The other three turned to her in surprise. Sophie had never been any good at apologizing. When it had been her who'd conned the team, she'd vehemently denied even trying to apologize, though they'd had no doubt that that was what she was doing.
"I'm sorry," she repeated. "For leaving."
"You don't have to be sorry, Sophie," Eliot shrugged. "No one's forced to stay here."
"Yeah," Hardison said. "We get it. You needed space from us and-"
"No," Sophie said, shaking her head fiercely. "I never needed space from you. It was about me and about Nate and…"
She paused.
"I've never stuck around when things got complicated. I always just moved on to the next job, the next person. For so many years. I never had to think about myself or relationships. So, when I felt unsure about myself and who I was, let alone who I was with Nate, it seemed easier just to do what I've always done. To run."
They all understood that. They'd all spent their whole lives running. It was the nature of who they were and what they did.
"But I never had to consider other people. There's never been anyone who…"
She stopped again. She had numerous areas of expertise and could bluff her way through a conversation well enough to convince anyone she was an expert in many more, but sharing her feelings, her real self, did not come easily.
"There've been people who were madly in love with me, people who feared me, people who wanted me, but there's never… there's never been anyone who needed me."
"It was never about any of you, me leaving. Not ever." She looked at each of them seriously, determined that they should know that. "I'm sorry that you got caught in the crossfire. And I'm sorry that I didn't come back when you told me he was drinking again. I knew it was just a matter of time before things got out of hand. I thought that maybe having Tara here would be enough of a failsafe to stop that happening."
"It was," Hardison said. "She told you to come back, didn't she? You rescued us."
Sophie nodded. "But I should never have let it get so far. I shouldn't have let him hurt you, or himself, like he did."
"You can't control Nate, Sophie," Eliot told her. "That's all on him."
"I know. Only, I sent Tara here because I was so worried, because I knew something like this would happen, and I still gave him time to go off the rails."
"It was a bit out of control," Parker agreed, as she spun some noodles around her fork. "What with kidnapping a mayor, Lucille getting blown up-"
Hardison winced at this, his grief still raw.
"-me nearly throwing Tara off the roof."
"You what?"
Parker looked up to see three pairs of concerned eyes looking at her.
"Oh, that," she chuckled lightly. "That was nothing. Just a misunderstanding."
"Right." Sophie shook her head. "Well, I gave him time to lose control because I was too stubborn to admit what was obvious. That you all needed me and that I… that I needed you as well."
"We forgive you," Hardison smiled. "And, hey, your little jaunt to Europe obviously did you some good. That was way better than your last apology."
They all laughed, thankful that Hardison could be counted on to lighten a difficult mood, and Parker and Eliot echoed his forgiveness and assured her that everything was good between them.
They could still keenly feel the absence of Nate, though, and even with the air cleared between the four of them, there was an uneasiness and a sense that no one was quite sure what to do now. Parker followed Sophie like a shadow for the rest of the evening, hounded by a fear that she would disappear again. Sophie even caught Hardison and Eliot glancing at her a few times, still not quite convinced that she was really back. They marathoned Hardison's show and it got later and later, but no one suggested going home.
Eventually, Sophie went to the cupboard and pulled out the stacks of blankets and pillows they kept for the many late nights they spent here. She set some down on the sofa for Hardison while Eliot helped Parker unfurl a camp bed on the floor. Eliot, still insisting that he only ever needed 90 minutes of sleep and would be fine, rejected the other camp bed, but a raised eyebrow from Sophie convinced him to accept the pillow and blanket she was handing him and to at least relax on the armchair.
She hovered around them longer than was really necessary, then, finally convinced that they were safe and comfortable, she went up the stairs to Nate's room.
That might have been a bad idea, she decided. Everything here made her think of Nate and stirred up feelings that she couldn't, or at least didn't want to, deal with.
She climbed into bed, hoping to smother her worries with sleep, but it didn't help. The pillows smelled like Nate and Sophie felt a tear run down her cheek. She still couldn't decide if she was more upset or angry. He told her that he needed her. He needed her. After all that time of wanting to hear it, of not knowing where they stood, he finally said it and then he did that. There would have been another way. There had to have been another way.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden flash of movement, illuminated by the soft glow of moonlight creeping through the curtains, and she shrieked. A pair of blue eyes widened and Parker took a few steps back.
"I was just checking," she said quickly and she turned to go, but Sophie and called out to her.
"Parker, it's alright. You just scared me. I didn't hear you come in."
"I am a cat burglar," Parker pointed out and Sophie laughed.
"You are. Did you want to talk? You can stay."
Parker sat cross-legged on the end of the bed. She bounced a few times, got up, sat down again and bounced some more. Sophie sighed.
"Parker, you can lie down. If you like."
Parker hesitated, then crawled across the bed to lie next to Sophie, staring up at the ceiling.
"We'll be okay," she said, and Sophie wasn't sure if it was a statement or a question. She answered it anyway.
"Yes."
"You're staying?"
Sophie turned over and reached out in the darkness to grasp Parker's hand.
"I promise. As long as you need me."
And she meant it. Because, for the first time in her life, she was certain of who she was and where she belonged. She was Sophie Devereaux and she belonged right here with her family.