ELDER CAME TO bed at sunrise.

His silhouette showed a sling and brace, hinting he’d submitted to medical attention. He might have antibiotics in his system and outer tools to heal him, but no amount of painkillers or doctors could prevent the seizing of stiff muscles that’d been well and truly overworked.

Our eyes met in the warming light as he crawled under the covers and scooped me close. He didn’t undress. He didn’t speak. He just clutched me hard and exhaled deeper than I’d ever heard.

His hips twitched to get closer, spooning me tight. But there was no sexual connotations—just comfort.

I was in his bed for the first time.

I’d slept fitfully by myself, looking around his room without his magnetic presence distracting me. And now he was here, and there was no mention of rules and restrictions. No hints at managing his OCD or for me to find my own sleeping quarters.

After what we’d lived through, our connection had reached an almost reverent level that didn’t need to be discussed or analysed. All that mattered was we’d ceased to be two people with two separate pasts and futures and blended into one.

And because of that, his exhaustion was my exhaustion. Weights dangled on my eyelids as sleep finally wriggled into my brain. I calmed with his arms around me. I snuggled ever closer.

He moaned under his breath as dreams found him, claiming the man who was utterly invincible, beyond intelligent, and almost super human in his drive to survive.

He was unconscious before I’d fully wriggled into comfort. His belly expanding. His lungs breathing. His body heavy and hot around mine.

Whatever he’d done was over.

The Chinmoku were gone.

We’d well and truly earned our tomorrows.

* * * * *

The moon rose, chasing away the clouds that’d plagued most of the day at sea.

Large swells and rocking yachts meant I’d been happy to stay in bed while Elder slumbered beside me, never waking—even when I stole away to the bathroom and winced at the circlet of bruises around my throat. Not when I went to grab lunch from the kitchen and filled my empty belly with sustenance. Not when I sat in his office chair and scribbled notes to No One about wars and chains and things I never wanted to live through again.

Transcribing my thoughts to paper helped organise my scattered ideals and conclusions and find the ability to once and for all put it behind me. Just like I’d learned to speak without fear, I was ready to live every day without looking over my shoulder, without second-guessing myself, without doubting those I’d slowly learned to trust.

I was whole now thanks to whatever had clicked inside me while Daishin held me captive. I was no longer lost or afraid.

By the time day turned to evening and I’d napped beside Elder for the third time, his eyes finally opened just as stars twinkled above.

He’d kissed me and gingerly climbed from the bed. After a bathroom visit, he captured my hand and escorted me into the shower.

There, we washed each other silently. Both content not to talk, healing in silence and warm water.

Afterward, once he’d winced his way into a new t-shirt and track pants, Elder summoned Michaels who arrived with his black bag of medicine and checked him over, doling out new antibiotics and painkillers, before ordering him back to bed.

Elder tried to fight his lethargy. He called the kitchen for dinner and strong coffee, but the moment he’d eaten, his body shut down and he tumbled back into sleep.

* * * * *

For two days, Elder couldn’t stay awake for long.

He’d rouse, talk, eat, shower, then fall asleep for long stretches.

Every time he woke, Michaels was there to administer drugs and painkillers, ensuring Elder’s healing kept progressing while his body demanded as much rest as it could get.

On the third day, when Elder once again summoned coffee from the kitchens in a bid to stay awake, he sat up in bed with the doors open for fresh air, and tolerated Michaels’s daily visit.

His eyes locked on mine where I sat across the room in a comfy silver suede chair.

Selix had kindly rustled up a laptop for me to use, and for the first time in forever, I had access to the internet and the news of the world that I’d been hidden from for so long.

As Michaels ensured Elder would live another day, I tried to log into old email and Facebook accounts, forgetting passwords and having to jump through hoops, confirming I was who I said I was.

Luckily, I’d never been issued a death certificate, and none of my profiles had been taken down—not that there was anything newsworthy when I finally did log in.

My email account had been suspended with a bounce back saying it was no longer active. My Facebook feed looked like a stranger’s with girls and boys from school now men and women embarking on careers, marriage, and adventures.

My lonely page was a scrapbook of my past life. A photo snippet of a party I went to but hated. A tag from someone in class making fun of the teacher. A mention in a lip-sync contest held at our sister-school.

Things that would’ve meant something then but now meant absolutely nothing.

I looked up, meeting Elder’s gaze again, and smiled.

The only thing that meant something was him.

Michaels finished assessing his patient, giving me a wave as he packed up and left.

Ever since we’d embarked on the Phantom, there’d been no stupid discussions of me returning to my suite below; no attempts at pretending we needed space from each other.

Elder and I were a couple in every sense of the word.

In fact, couple was too lacking a phrase.

I was his, through and through. No other terminology would suffice.

“Come here.” He patted the bed where he sat propped by pillows, a faint sheen of discomfort on his forehead.

The remnants of a Caesar salad for lunch sat on the bedside dresser.

My heart fluttered.

Closing the laptop, I carried it with me and curled up close to him. “How are you feeling?”

He chuckled, wincing a little as he shifted. “Like I’ve been at war for the past few decades.”

I moved to sit cross-legged, placing the closed laptop on my thighs. My shorts kept my legs bare in the warmth of the suite, my yellow t-shirt draping off one shoulder thanks to being a size too big. “Well, you kind of have, so it’s understandable.”

He looked at the ceiling for a moment, thoughts racing in his eyes. “Is it strange that I feel almost lost?” His gaze flickered to me. “Now that I’ve achieved everything I set out to, I’m left wondering what other purpose I have?”

I shook my head, reaching over to wrap my hand around his bandaged one. “Not at all. You deserve to rest and just enjoy the moment for a bit.”

“I’ve done enough resting. I’m bored of resting.”

“Your body seems to think differently.”

“My body can just get over it. I need to do something.”

“You need to just relax.”

He snorted. “Relax? Have you met me, Pimlico-san?”

My eyes widened at the Japanese address.

He sucked in a breath, licking his lips. “Sorry. After talking to Daishin, the other part of my culture is a little more alive in my brain at present.”

“Would you tell me something in Japanese?”

His eyebrow rose. “Like what?”

I shrugged. “Anything. I’d just like to hear you.”

I didn’t say how sexy I found it or how his lips were born to speak in different languages.

He paused, clenching his teeth as if weighing up the pros and cons of embracing a little of his culture that he’d always run from. “You know…my father encouraged me to speak Japanese to make my mother happy.” He sighed. “I always preferred English, though. Probably because I preferred my father over my mother. She was hard to love—mainly because earning her love wasn’t easy and I always failed. Kade, on the other hand…” He drifted off, laughing softly. “He had that witch wrapped around his little finger.”

I let him speak, glad he could finally discuss his family with me.

“Kade loved to speak Japanese.” His voice turned gentle, wistful. “He’d scribble Hiragana and Katakana characters all over the house—sometimes on the walls in our mother’s lipstick. If I’d ever done that, I would’ve been smacked. But Kade…he got away with a lot.”

He glanced at me, full of ghosts. “He was my mother’s favourite. I knew that and was content with it. I had my father’s friendship and my cello, which was enough for me. I suppose that’s why she blamed me so much.” His eyes darkened. “Because I killed her favourite son and survived.”

I rested my head on his shoulder, earning a slight hiss from him. “Oops, sorry.” I pulled away from his stitched wound, but he pulled me back. “No, stay.”

I relaxed as he kissed the top of my head, breathing, “Aishiteru.”

My belly tightened at his husky, sensual tone. Something about Elder speaking a different language pulled a cord deep inside me.

I shivered as he nuzzled my hair. “It means, I love you. But not many people in Japan say it that way.”

“They don’t?”

He shook his head, his nose still buried in my hair. “No.”

“How do they say they love each other then?”

“They show them.”

I twisted a little so I could look at him. Our noses brushed. Pressing upward, I kissed him on the lips.

He froze as I pressed gently but firm. I didn’t deepen the kiss. I didn’t pressure for more. I just kissed him because I was in love with him and we were alive despite overwhelming odds trying otherwise.

He kissed me back, his lips softening beneath mine but not deepening the chaste romance. The last remaining tension in my spine finally, finally siphoned away.

Nothing else mattered but this.

Him.

Me.

Us.

Pulling away, he murmured, “Was that your way of showing me you love me?”

I nodded. “I have many other ways to show you, too.”

“You do?”

I smiled. “I can be inventive when I put my mind to things.”

He chuckled. “In that case, I look forward to finding out just how much you love me.” He kissed me swift and hot. “I have so many ways to show you. The minute this fucking body of mine is back to working order, you’ll find out.”

We laughed together as I slotted against him.

I stroked the laptop lid, wondering if any of my school friends had found someone as incredible. I pitied them if they hadn’t even though they probably pitied me for what I’d lived through to find Elder.

Silence fell between us, and I guessed he’d fallen asleep again, bound to his body’s healing whether he wanted to or not.

But a faint whisper fell onto the covers around us. “Will you go somewhere with me, Pim?”

“I’d go anywhere with you,” I answered immediately, looking up and locking onto his brilliant black eyes.

“You don’t need to know where?”

“If you’re there, I don’t care.”

He smiled nervously, his gaze alternating between my lips and my gaze. “It probably won’t be fun.”

“If it’s important, then you don’t need to ask or tell me. I’ll go wherever you need.”

“You’re far too good to me.” He kissed my mouth again, murmuring against my lips, “I’ve asked Jolfer to sail to America. There’s one more thing I need to do before I can put my past behind me.”

Understanding burst inside as he pulled away, searching my features for my reaction.

Anger filled me at facing the woman who’d been so cruel to him. Then forgiveness followed, remembering everything she’d lived through with losing her husband and son. The complex recipe made me nervous, but it must be nothing to what Elder must live with.

He’d done everything he could to earn their forgiveness: the deck full of toys and suites for guests who didn’t want to visit. The house in Monte Carlo open to family who spat on its existence all because it was Elder’s.

He might’ve slayed the Chinmoku’s hold on him, but he’d yet to do that with his family.

I cupped his cheek. “You’re going to see your mother?”

“Only if you’ll come with me.”

“I’d be honoured.”

* * * * *

Another couple of days passed.

A pilot Selix hired flew the Phantom’s resident helicopter to us from France and accepted a lift back to the closest port, thanks to Selix acting as taxi driver.

Life chores were completed and hours crept steadily onward.

Unfortunately, Elder ended up with cabin fever, demanding to be let out of bed. Michaels gave him strict instructions to obey doctor’s orders and remain put. After the abuse he’d put himself through, his body needed time to knit together properly. Michaels was adamant, and after a screaming match which Elder didn’t win, he reluctantly agreed—pissed off and bored but staying in bed…for now.

The next day, while Elder worked on his laptop and spoke to his factory in Monte Carlo about new orders and existing clients, I went online again and read up on what had happened while I’d been captive. It’d been rather eye-opening to read news reports and see just how much life had passed me by.

I read about my mother and her court appearances. I read about myself and my disappearance. And once I was bored with history, I turned to the future and opened a new email before entering in the address Tess had given me.

I hadn’t meant to write to her.

I had nothing much to say.

But with nothing much to do and endless horizons over the next couple of weeks, I found myself opening a new message.

From: Pimlico

To: T Mercer

Subject: Thank you

Hi Tess,

I just wanted to say thanks again for all your help.

I’ll never forget you and your family and what you do saving girls like me.

I hope Lino is okay after what happened and pass my hello to Suzette.

Thanks again,

Pim.

I didn’t expect a reply.

To be honest, I wasn’t sure I wanted one. For all my ideas of earning a female friend, now I was back on the Phantom with Elder by my side, I had no cravings for anything else. I was exactly where I wanted to be with the exact person I wanted to be with.

So when she replied a few hours later, I suffered a small case of nerves, especially as Elder read over my shoulder.

From: T Mercer

To: Pimlico

Subject: Re: Thank you

Hi Pim,

Lovely to hear from you.

I’m assuming, since I haven’t heard otherwise from news channels, that you got away safe and are sailing far away by now. It was our pleasure to help, and I hope you’ll stay in touch.

Don’t forget, Q and I sponsor an orphanage and many other child charities here and around the world. I know this is completely overstepping, but I still feel awful about what happened that day when I tried to make you hold Lino.

My heart breaks that you can’t have children—and I know I’m once again overstepping—but I wanted to reiterate that it’s not the end of the dream.

If you ever decide to rescue another as Elder rescued you, then our doors are always open.

Tess.

“Orphanage?” Elder asked, a strained rasp in his voice. “Fucking hell. That woman really doesn’t know when to stop, does she?” Elder reached over and slammed the laptop closed. “I’m so sorry, Pim.”

I let him take the computer, shell-shock making me mute and frozen.

It wasn’t the fact she’d reminded me all over again that having children naturally would never happen for us. It was the fact she offered a family so readily, so easily, so soon.

I’m not ready.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.

Adoption?

I…

Shaking off new fears and questions, I smiled reassuringly—more worried that Elder would stress out than about my own shortcomings. “She’s fine. She only means well.” Kissing his cheek, I bounced off the bed. “I’ll go rustle up some snacks. We’ll watch the sunset.”

Elder grabbed my wrist before I could leave, pulling me back and cupping my jaw. With blazing black eyes, he ran his thumb over my bottom lip, staring way too intense and way too knowingly into my soul. “I love you, Tasmin Blythe.” He kissed me sharp and deep. “Don’t ever forget that.”

Whatever worries or heartaches I’d had at being incomplete vanished.

I was his.

He was mine.

We were a family already.

* * * * *

 Another few days passed while Elder recuperated.

Slowly, he left his bedroom and ventured onto the deck where warmer airs and gentle currents meant sunlight and dinners alfresco injected health back into his body.

Jolfer gave us daily sailing reports, and on the ninth day at sea, when we finally neared America, he asked if Elder was ready to dock or would prefer to sail a little more to allow final healing.

Elder gave me a look and a grin so innocent and pure, it took my breath away. “What do you want to do, Pim?”

“It’s not what I want, but you.”

“Wrong. It’s about both of us.” He limped toward me, his body tall and tight even with his sling and ankle brace. “I want to keep you all to myself, for a little longer.”

I smiled. “What did you have in mind?”

He turned to face his captain. “Jolfer, I think we’ll take the scenic route.”

Jolfer broke into a grin. “Right you are, sir. Good choice.” With a quick salute, he made his way back to the bridge.

I waited until he was out of ear-shot before I followed Elder to where staff had set up a platter of smoked salmon, cheese, and homemade lemonade beside very comfortable looking red and white deck chairs. “Scenic way?”

Elder smirked, easing his way into one of the recliners with a wince. Even with his stiffness and fading bruises, he looked more like the man who’d demanded a penny for my thoughts rather than the one who’d limped to bed in pieces.

My penny bracelet jingled on my wrist as I sat down, agreeing with me.

Being bed bound Elder hadn’t had another episode like the one he’d had after the battle with the Chinmoku. His tendencies had given him some breathing room and it showed in how light-hearted he was—untormented for a change.

Taking a sip of lemonade, he said, “The Bahamas.”

I froze, cheese and cracker halfway to my mouth. “We’re going to the Bahamas?”

He shrugged. “Why not? It’s technically on the way. Kind of.” He laughed. “I think we deserve a vacation, don’t you?”

I shivered with absolute joy. Why not indeed? “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll come to the Bahamas with me.” He chewed a cracker, sunshine dappling his blue black hair.

How insanely incredible had my life become, and what did I ever do to deserve it?

Unable to contain a laugh full of bubbling happiness, I nodded. “I’ll come to the Bahamas with you. Since you asked so nicely.”

* * * * *

I’d seen a lot of things in my short life.

I’d lived a lot of things.

But this? This azure blue paradise? It was the first time I’d been dumbstruck by natural beauty and near tears at how grateful I was to witness it.

The Phantom sailed around the inlets of the many islands in the Bahamas. I didn’t know the names of each different atoll or land mass, but each was as stunning as the last.

The sun set before we laid anchor, and I fell asleep in Elder’s arms trembling with anticipation of tomorrow.

The next day was spent admiring the view from the deck. Relaxing under the hot sun, we grew browner by the hour. Elder looked longingly at the water and even opened the railing to assess what the jump from the deck to tide would do to his freshly knitted-together ankle.

Michaels came running just as Elder stripped off his t-shirt and tossed away his sling with a disgusted look. All ideas of swimming were curtailed thanks to strict doctor’s orders.

The following day we did the same—minus the attempt at swimming—relaxing and sailing around various parts of the islands, taking our time to find the perfect spot. The beauty of the tropical wilderness beckoned us to explore, and we both grew antsy to trade water for land.

The third day, we docked at an island called Eleuthera. The warm breeze carried scents of sand, coconuts, and palm trees. The need to feel the icing sugar sand between my toes and search for waterfalls had me pacing the polished decks of the Phantom as if I were in captivity once again.

Finally, Elder had had enough of being an invalid and summoned Michaels to perform a final check-up. His stitches were removed, his ribs checked, his finger splint discarded, and his sling retired. His bruises and cuts had healed faster than mine ever had, leaving no trace of violence on his skin.

The constellation of injuries had shrunk to just one—his ankle.

Michaels wasn’t happy with Elder’s slow recuperation on the joint and refused to take the brace off just yet. Elder had to obey to avoid worsening the already irreversible damage to his tendons and ligaments.

Once Michaels had delivered the stern instructions, Elder shooed him away and did the exact opposite by storming to the bridge to talk to Jolfer.

I had no idea what they discussed, but he came back looking less pissed off and promised a surprise tomorrow.

That night, as I stood on the deck watching the stars curl with smoke from Elder’s medicinal use of marijuana, Selix appeared with a satellite phone and passed it to me.

I raised my eyebrow. “What is it?”

He smiled. “Someone wants to talk to you.”

I shrank back, staring at the phone as if my past was trying to make contact and drag me back. My new present seemed too good to be true. I was so in awe of the effortless way Elder had introduced me to travel and luxury; even now, I pinched myself regularly to make sure I hadn’t fallen into a coma back at the white mansion and might wake up at any moment in horror.

It seemed without the threat of death or mortal injury casting a shadow over us, I couldn’t accept that life could be this…uncomplicated…this wonderful.

Selix chuckled. “It’s not going to bite you, Pim.”

“I don’t know anyone who knows this number. I don’t even know this number.”

He grabbed my hand and slapped the heavier-than-normal cell phone into it. “You know one person. I suggest you speak to her.”

Leaving me speechless, he wandered off, cocking his chin at Elder for him to follow.

Elder inhaled the last puff and tossed the discarded joint into the waves below. “Talk to your mother, Pim. I have things to discuss with Selix.”

I didn’t have a choice as he left me alone with the galaxies above.

My hand shook as I raised the phone to my ear. Elder and Selix laughed at something in the distance, strolling to the other side of the yacht.

“Hello?” My voice remained quiet and hesitant, still distrustful no matter what I’d been told.

“Are you Tasmin Blythe?” a curt female asked.

Thanks to Elder occasionally using my true name, it no longer sounded as foreign as it once did. “I-I am.”

“And do you accept a toll charge from Sonya Blythe, prisoner 890776E?”

My fingers clutched the phone tighter. “I do.”

“Connecting you now.”

A crackle and hiss and then my mother’s anxious voice. “Min?”

I fought the need to sit suddenly. “Hi, Mum.”

She exhaled heavily. “I’ve been trying to call you for weeks. Is everything okay? I feared that you’d been taken again. That something awful had happened.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you said you’d call and you didn’t.”

“Oh.” Shame filled me. “I’m so sorry.” I’d been on my own and blocked from all communication for so long, I’d forgotten the simple requirement and expectations from others to check in now and again. “I didn’t think. I’m so sorry. I’m fine. Just had a couple of interesting weeks but everything is better now.”

“Define interesting.” Her voice turned sharp.

“Oh…nothing really.” I waved my hand in the air, struggling to omit rather than lie. “It’s over now, so it’s in the past.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.” Her sharp tone switched to a smile. “It’s so nice to talk to you. Almost as incredible as it was to see you that day.”

I padded barefoot over to a lounger and sat. Knowing my mother was in jail for killing my murderer still wasn’t easy to comprehend—especially when speaking to her like any normal conversation on the phone.

“It was amazing seeing you, too. How are they treating you in there?”

She chuckled. “Fine.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, Tasmin. But that isn’t why I called. I’m far more interested to know how you are.”

I smiled, looking around at the starry skies and warmth of the Caribbean. “I’m doing wonderfully.”

“Oh, do tell.”

I laughed, unable to link the woman asking for details and genuinely caring about my answers to the cold-hearted mother from my childhood.

It was as if she’d followed my thoughts, interrupting before I could reply. “You know, I’m not that person anymore, Min. I’ve given up being so suspicious and judgmental. Living in this place…it teaches you to be wary and keep your guard up, but it also shows the depth of human connection and compassion. I want to know about your life. I need to know you’re happy.”

Tears filled my eyes as I struggled with things to say. Assurances that I’d never hold back again, fully willing to have this relationship with her.

Once again, she jumped into the silence, not as comfortable nor as friendly with it as I was. “Oh, I almost forgot. I arranged my lawyer to release the funds I was holding in a trust fund for you. Your Mickey Mouse watch from your father is also in the trust. Whenever you’re back in town, you can collect it from their offices.”

I snapped back to reality. “Wait, what?”

“I told you I took your watch back from that bastard.”

I sat tall. “Yes, I remember and I’m ever so grateful, but about the other stuff you just said—”

“What? About the money from selling the apartment? It doesn’t equate to much, thanks to the large mortgage I had, but at least you’ll have a couple hundred grand to buy your own place or pay for your adventures rather than rely on Mr. Prest.”

Wow.

“I-I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t need to say anything. That money is yours. It’s been waiting for you while gathering a piddly amount of interest over the years. It’s yours and ready to spend on whatever you want.” Her voice softened. “I’m happy you’ve found love, Minnie Mouse, but I also don’t want you to trade one captivity for another.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean being with him because you love him is one thing. Being with him because you have no means to get away is another.” She sighed as if this topic taxed her. “I want you to be happy, but I also want you to be free. I gave away my freedom, hoping to give you yours. I failed, but Mr. Prest didn’t. I will forever be grateful to him, but if there’s ever a day when you need to leave, then you now have the ability to do so. You deserve love and freedom, Tasmin. Don’t ever confuse the two or believe they go hand in hand.”

I blinked in the darkness, staring at the majesty of the Phantom and the shapes of Elder and Selix as they shared a drink. I couldn’t imagine ever not being happy with him, but if it meant so much to my mother, how could I not accept? “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You can thank me by sending some photos of where you are and what you’re doing.”

I laughed, chest tight with amazement at how generous she was. “That I can do.”

I didn’t know why but guilt sat heavier with every breath. Guilt that I was here in paradise on a yacht worth more than ten of our apartments in London and she lived in an eight by eight cell.

Swallowing, I admitted, “We’re sailing to America.”

I’d save the Bahamas for another day—a day when I could deliver such incredible news without coming across as bragging or spoilt. I feared the awe inside me for this wondrous place would come across as rude if I gushed.

“Are you going via the Caribbean? If you left from England, that would be an easy detour.”

I rubbed my arms as a cloud ghosted over the moon, drenching us in darkness.

Damn.

I paused before saying quietly, “We’re moored off the island of Eleuthera right now. I didn’t know how to tell you.”

She laughed. “You didn’t know how to tell me you’re in one of the most beautiful places on earth with a man who I hope is taking care of you? Tasmin, that’s exactly what I want to hear. It makes my existence so much easier in here knowing you’re out there living the life I’d always hoped for you.”

“I can…tell you more if you’d like.”

“I’d love that.”

I reclined against the lounger, shy all of a sudden. What did daughters tell their mothers? Were all avenues of life permitted or was it more selective and private? “Where would you like me to start?”

She sighed, giggling gently. “How about from the moment you left me when you came back from the dead and I found out I still have a daughter?”

“Okay, well…” I stretched out, testing the waters on this new dynamic. “First, there was a beautiful dress that Elder bought for me and then a ball at the most spectacular manor.”

“Sounds incredible.”

“And then there was the bracelet Elder gave me and…”

And for thirty magical minutes, I spoke to my mother like I’d never spoken to her before.

I told her about Hawksridge Hall, my penny bracelet, the way my heart soared and pattered whenever I was around Elder. I told her about Monte Carlo and finding out what she’d done for me. I told her about Morocco and how Elder stood beside me in a storm and waited for me to decide not to die.

I told her all the good stuff and withheld the bad.

I didn’t tell her about the Chinmoku, or Q shooting Elder, or the battle in France.

I didn’t tell her about my tongue and how long it took me to speak.

We’d both had enough death in our lives to permit it power over our conversation.

By the time an officer kicked her off the phone, we’d lived in a world of laughter and friendship, learning once and for all how to be family.