Even though the boys had been born at home, the hospital informed us that there were no ill-effects, and we were all permitted to return home the following afternoon. I was surprised that Nicholas had arranged to take the rest of the week off, and that he was going to take Iana to preschool for the next several weeks until I returned to the firm. I'd already gotten in touch with Rebecca by the time we were home from the hospital, giving her the date that I was due to return to the firm, and she already had a place prepared for the boys.

The boys would be sleeping in bassinets in the master bedroom with me and Nicholas for the time being, and would not be moved into the nursery until I too returned to work. I was pleased that my husband was just as willing to get out of bed to tend to them as I was, and he seemed to dote on them at every turn. I was equally pleased that he would include Iana in many things with the boys, such as telling her how to hold them, and talking her through changing a diaper. But, since my daughter was not yet three—and I had no idea if any other children would follow Clayton or Fionn—it was more a moot point.

"It's so quiet around here," Nicholas said quietly one late morning, during his paternity leave after he had taken Iana to preschool. "This can't be normal..."

I smirked from where I stood on our treadmill in the extra bedroom, which was now serving as a home gym for the time being. I was walking steadily—not quite a jog, due to the doctor's warnings when I'd had my kidney removed—my heart beating firmly in my ears, and I felt pleased that I could still manage to be so productive, despite the notion that I was now the proud parent of three children. "It's not so abnormal," I said, throwing Nicholas a grin from where he sat on the yoga ball, lifting weights.

Nicholas's eyebrows knitted together then. "How?"

"I guess good sleepers run in the family," I said, shrugging. "Iana slept exceptionally well right away, and was sleeping steadily through the night by six months. I was the one who had to wake her up," I said, shuddering at the notion of it.

Nicholas looked surprised. "You never told me that before..."

I shrugged. "You didn't ask. And I didn't really matter to you at that point, remember. It was all plain and simple fucking..."

"They can't hear you through the baby monitor, can't they?"

I scoffed. "Even if they did, there's no way in hell that they'll retain it," I assured him. "But I'm right, you know. We meant nothing to each other, past the physical level of things. Not for a long time..."

Nicholas was the one to smirk then. "Oh, really?"

I peered at him for a moment before I very nearly lost my footing. Gripping onto the treadmill before I fell, I cursed myself inwardly for my lack of focus. Get it together, Gallagher, I told myself in a firm voice. "Yeah, really," I said.

"What about when you nearly attacked me, after I told you that Jasmine was pregnant?"

I rolled my eyes. "Momentary lapse of judgement..."

"Really?" Nicholas said, lifting his weight steadily in his right hand then. "Because I could've sworn that it was because you were jealous..."

I scoffed, my timer going off that I'd been going at this steady pace for a good sixty minutes, and that I'd better hop off the damn thing now before I over-exerted myself. Switching off the machine and hopping down, I crossed my arms as Nicholas continued tirelessly with his reps and shook my head. "Not jealous."

"Oh-ho," Nicholas said, finishing his set and getting to his feet, staring down at me. "And I'm just supposed to believe you?"

I deliberately looked away from him. "Yeah."

Nicholas reached out then, putting his index finger beneath my chin and tilting it upwards, and waited for my eyes to lock with his before he spoke. "You're the one who pretty much threw yourself at me when you came back to the firm that day..."

I made a muttering noise then, breaking away from him and making a grab for the baby monitor as I moved to leave the room. "You know as well as I do that it could've been the pregnancy hormones or sleep deprivation..."

"I didn't know pregnancy hormones could linger after a birth," Nicholas replied, moving to follow me, "and you just said that Iana was sleeping through the night..."

"After six months, give or take," I replied, walking down the hallway. "She was only a few weeks old then..."

"Just admit it, Murph," Nicholas said, making a grab for my waist then and flipping me around so that I was facing him, and I felt a squeal escape my throat at the total unexpectedness of the gesture. "Admit it. You wanted me."

I struggled to free myself. "Nicholas..."

"Come on," he said, grinning up at me. "You know you did."

I rolled my eyes. "Maybe I did, and maybe I didn't. The point is that we're together now, right? I mean, it's what you wanted..."

Nicholas looked up at me in shock. "You didn't want to be together?"

"Oh, my god!" I said, looking up at the ceiling. "You know I love our lives, Nicholas. I'm very happy to be your wife, and a mother to our kids. I'm happy—really. But, right now, I'm just feeling a little claustrophobic..."

Nicholas grinned, dragging me towards him so that our bodies were meshed together. "Really? I kind of like this..."

"Okay, you need to put me down now," I said and felt immediately relieved when he lowered me to the ground. "Much better," I replied, standing on my toes and kissing him. "Now, tell me, sir, what would you like for dinner?"

. . .

Nicholas's paternity leave ended promptly on Monday morning, and I found I was sorry to see him go. Not solely because having an extra pair of hands that you trusted unconditionally around was literally walking out the door, but because I found that spending solo time with my husband was a luxury, one that was not readily available to me. Thankfully, Nicholas had agreed to continue taking Iana to preschool on my behalf until I returned to work full-time, which left me to clean the house, take care of the boys, and to order groceries if I thought it was too cold for them to be out of the house for a long period of time.

The second day after Nicholas's return to work was vastly different, so much so that we had an unexpected visitor at the door. I had put the boys down for a morning nap, and was doing some laundry when the visitor arrived, and I was thankful that they merely knocked on the door, as the doorbell would've surely woken the boys. I finished loading the wash into the washer before I went through the kitchen and out into the living room, before going towards the door and looking through the spyhole before I realized who it was and made haste to open it.

"Allie, hey!" I said.

"Hello, darling," Allie said, stepping inside and embracing me, bags of which I assumed were gifts in her arms. "I had a free couple of hours and thought I'd stop by."

"Of course," I said, breaking away from her and hastily shutting the door behind her to ward off the cold. "Let's get that off you," I said, holding out my arms for her jacket and hanging it on one of the many pegs by the door. "Come on in and have a seat. Can I take any of those from you?" I asked as she walked into the living room.

"I'm fine, thank you," Allie said, sitting on the couch as I hovered above her. She set them down around her and smiled up at me. "Great to get out of the cold."

I nodded, automatically wrapping my arms around myself. "For sure," I replied. "Can I get you anything? Something to drink? I usually have a cup of tea right about now..."

"If you were going to make one, I'd love one," Allie said with a smile.

I grinned. "Of course," I replied, making my way into the kitchen, and vaguely heard her following me. When I peered over my shoulder as I filled the tea kettle with water, I noticed she had sat at the kitchen table, and I fixed a smile to my lips and turned off the water, capped the kettle, and placed it on the stove. "How's things at the firm?"

"We miss you terribly," Allie said. "Hugo is just beside himself. He misses your organizational skills, my dear."

I laughed, turning on the stove and shaking my head. "Oh, please. You two founded all of that brickwork, and went to law school long before I did. I'm sure he had some form or other of organizational skills far before I walked onto the scene..."

"He tries," Allie said as I gathered some scones that I'd baked that morning onto a plate and placed them in front of Allie on the table. "Oh, how lovely. What flavor are they?" she wanted to know.

"Buttermilk," I replied. "Just something I came up with during my years without supervision. I love to cook and bake, so Nicholas will always be well-fed."

Allie looked touched at the declaration as she took one onto her plate, breaking it up into bite-sized pieces and popping one into her mouth. "Delicious," she said after swallowing it. "You know, Murphy," she said, taking a napkin from the container at the center of the table and dabbing it at her lips, "when Hugo and I were in our younger years, we would host a charity benefit in the spring at the house. It was a tea party."

"Oh," I said, quickly getting out two cups and putting tea bags into them. "That sounds like it could be a lot of fun."

"Oh, it is. I can't tell you the feelings of positivity come about through the networking aspect that comes about. Anyhow, I've been thinking of starting it up again," she continued. "I would love for you to be a part of it, and to make these delicious scones."

I smiled as the tea kettle boiled, and poured the hot water into the cups. "I'm sure I'd love to be a part of it, Allie," I replied. I set the two cups onto a tray, along with a pitcher of cream and a bowl of sugar, and spoons for each cup, which I promptly brought to the table. "Do you have a set charity, or does it vary every year?"

"It varies—whatever's considered something hot-button. That's what we go for."

I nodded. "Are repeat charities permitted?"

Allie smiled. "Would you want to put on another benefit for Children of the Night, because of Ian's boyfriend, Trevor?"

I shrugged, taking a sip of my tea, and visibly reacting, for I had forgotten to add milk or sugar to it, and hastily did so. "If Trevor was open to it. I'm sure he'd also appreciate it if we extended the invitation to some teens, so that they could get a taste of the high-life. We'd have to explain that the teens wouldn't be made a spectacle of, however, for such a thing would be highly inappropriate and would warrant some letters..."

Allie nodded, taking her offered tea cup. "Well, I'm sure such a thing can be arranged," she replied, adding milk and sugar to her hot drink and stirring it. "If you had things to do today, Murphy, please don't let me keep you..."

"Mostly laundry and watching the boys," I replied, feeling relieved that my tea didn't taste like some far-off dirt. "I was thinking of running to the store later, but I can always go when Ian comes over later with Iana, after picking her up. I wouldn't want the boys to go out into the cold and getting sick..."

Allie immediately shook her head. "I can finish the laundry for you, Murphy, and watch the boys, if you're all right with that," she said with a smile.

I bit my lip, forcing myself to finish my tea in the moments that followed. "I wouldn't want to keep you from firm business..."

My mother-in-law smiled. "Oh, don't worry. I don't have my next case meeting until tomorrow, and I'm all caught up on my notes for it. I wouldn't have anything to do at the office except prepare for the meeting, which I've already mostly done. I have my iPad with me in case there's a case emergency, but there won't be, I assure you."

I sighed—the notion of getting out of the house without any of my children, or Nicholas, seemed almost foreign to me, and I found myself leaping at the opportunity. "Only if you're sure about this, Allie," I said, wanting to give her one more opportunity to get out of it, if that's what she really wanted. "I wouldn't want to take advantage or anything..."

"Sweetheart, you're family—you gave me grandkids, for god sakes," she said with a smile. "I want you to go and do your errands and have a little breathing room. You deserve it. You can't be locked up in the house all day—it's unhealthy."

I smiled. "All right," I said, getting to my feet. I grabbed my phone off the wall charger and made my way towards the front door, where my coat, hat, gloves, and snow boots were kept. "I will have my phone on me in case anything happens..."

"We'll be fine," Allie assured me. "You've showed me where everything is, and I've raised three children. I think I know what I'm doing."

I smiled, stepping into my snow boots and pulling on my coat. "If you're sure..."

"Go on," Allie said with a smile, practically pushing me out the front door. "You go and have a good time, Murphy."

I smiled, waving to her as I did my best not to slip down the stairs, through my yard, out my gate, and towards my car. Fumbling in my pockets, I found my keys and my wallet and unlocked my car quickly, getting inside and locking it up before I stuck my key into the ignition and fired it up, waiting for the heat to kick in before I drove off. As I stuck my hands into my pockets, I felt the envelope of the letter, hastily written the day before, when I'd been stuck for things to do around the house after Nicholas left.

I pulled it out to my pocket, and the front of it still declared that it was to be sent to Mickey Milkovich in Mexico. Due to some sleuthing, I'd somehow managed to find out just where he was living down there, and my intention was to come clean about Iana. Originally, he said that he would likely hear through the grapevine if Iana was his, and if I'd had her. I remembered too clumsily explaining to him that, if I did have it, she would be his by default, because there was no way in hell I would've had Lip's baby. Maybe in some obscure, small-town society, someone in this day and age could knowingly have their siblings' or close relative's child and feel okay about it, but that person wasn't me.

The heat kicked in soon thereafter, and I pocketed the letter again, pulling out of my space in front of my house and down the street. The streets, thankfully, hadn't frozen over, and I was immensely relieved, mostly because I didn't want Nicholas to pull of the heroic husband act and insist upon driving me everywhere somehow. What with his likely hectic schedule at work, I didn't want to impose upon him; I knew full well that spouses were supposedly supposed to lean on one another, but I felt there was a fine line between leaning on and taking advantage of. I knew that Nicholas would do nearly everything I asked, but I didn't want to ask too much and then suddenly be rewarded with a mutual lack of desire to accomplish anything.

I went to the local grocery store, pulling into the snow-filled parking lot and getting out of the car carefully, not wanting to be blind-sided by ice and somehow end up in the ICU with no memory of what had happened. Making my way across the parking lot, I stepped into the store and made a grab for a shopping cart, going down the various aisles. Since a heavier snowstorm had been predicted in the weather forecast for the end of the week, I decided to stock up on a good amount of everything in case something happened further down the line.

I was just getting some meat—some for dinner, some for later in the week, and some that I would ultimately freeze—when I suddenly became aware that I was being watched. I looked up then, and smiled at what I saw, feeling immediately relieved as to who it was and that it definitely wasn't a stalker. "Debs," I said, leaving my cart for a moment and stepping forward, pulling my younger sister into my arms. "Stocking up for the storm?"

"Yep," Debbie replied pulling back. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, and I knew it didn't have anything to do with the meat cooling case.

"Did you walk here?"

She shrugged. "Had to."

I sighed, shaking my head. "Why don't we just finish our shopping together, and then I'll give you a ride, okay?" I said.

Debbie nodded. "Thanks."

"No problem," I replied, turning back to my cart and loading more meat into it. "So, what are your plans for the day?"

"Got the day off—hence the grocery shopping," she replied. "Franny's not done with school until after three."

I nodded. "Well, my car is going to be like an ice box anyhow, and Ian's picking up Iana today," I said, mulling it over in my mind as I finished picking out meats and moved to go to the produce section of the store. "Why don't we go for lunch after this?"

Debbie blinked. "You sure?"

"Positive—my treat," I said quickly, flashing her a smile.

She nodded. "Okay... But where are the boys?" she asked, looking around the selected meats in my cart, almost as if they could be hiding.

"Oh, shit, I left them in the car," I said, and Debbie looked horrified. "Kidding. Kidding," I said, this time putting emphasis on the word.

"Okay," she said, obviously relieved. "So, the boys are where...?"

"Allie had some free time today, so she's watching them and finishing my laundry," I replied, finding I didn't mind the arrangement now that I was talking about it.

Debbie looked surprised. "Really?"

I nodded. "Really."

"Did you ask her?"

I shook my head, grabbing a bag of russet potatoes before looking at some greens. "Nope. She just showed up and offered."

"Damn," Debbie said, obviously impressed. "Good on you."

I smiled. "Yeah, I guess."

We continued making small talk as we kept on shopping together, and when we arrived at the check-out, I let Debbie go ahead of me. Once we'd paid and our groceries were bagged, we made our way to my car, where I let Debbie put her groceries in the truck, while I stuffed mine into the back seat of the vehicle. We got into my car together then, and I was relieved when the heat didn't take as long this time, and I drove in the direction of the diner.

"Fiona's place?" Debbie asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. I figure it'll be fun to go there together. Besides, I can act as a buffer. The neutral Gallagher sister, if you will."

Debbie smirked, leaning back against the passenger seat. "Things got complicated after I asked for her support about Franny," she admitted.

I nodded. "It's a complex situation, Debs."

Debbie turned to look at me then, and just stared at me for a moment until I pulled to a stop at a traffic light. "Whose side would you have been on?"

I blinked, turning to look at her. "What?"

"If you were here since day one, and I found out I was pregnant, would you have wanted me to keep the baby, or get an abortion?"

I mulled it over in my mind for a moment. "Who was for it?"

"Frank, pretty much immediately, was," Debbie replied. "And Ian and Lip came around pretty quickly, too, because they thought it should've been my decision, not Fiona's."

I sighed, pulling into the intersection as the light changed. "That's a real tough decision, Debs. I mean, I love you, and I love Fi, but I think I would be a completely different person, had I been raised alongside you guys. I mean, who knows? Maybe I would've proven to be a mini version of Fiona..."

"No," Debbie said, cutting across me, her tone thoughtful. "No, you may have gotten the smart gene from me and Lip, but you're like a carbon copy of Ian."

I smiled. "Well, he's my twin, Debs," I replied. "There's bound to be some simulates between the two of us. Hell, we both like fucking dudes," I joked.

"But that still doesn't answer my question," Debbie pressed then as we neared the diner, and I wanted our conversation to be over before we walked through those doors. "Just...tell me. Would you have made me get an abortion?"

"I wouldn't have had custody of you, Debs, and even though I'm older than you, you weren't a total child when this all went down. I couldn't make you do anything."

Debbie pursed her lips. "Say I wasn't your sister," she said as we finally pulled up outside the diner, and I shut off my car. "Would you have advised it?"

I sighed, pulling my key out of the ignition before I turned and looked at her. "I think, knowing you as I do, that, despite your age, you somehow make things work," I said quietly. "And even though a typical girl of your age shouldn't be having sex or keeping their babies, there are exceptions to every rule, and I think you're a rare exception to that rule."

Debbie grinned at me then, launching herself at me and giving me a hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she chanted.

I laughed, taking her hand and moving to get out of my car. "No problem," I replied.

"Hey, what's this?" Debbie asked and, as I turned, I saw that she was holding onto the letter to Mickey, which must've slipped out of my pocket. "Why are you sending a letter to Mickey Milkovich?" she wanted to know.

I lowered my eyes. "It's complicated."

"Is Ian cheating?" Debbie demanded then, her voice like stone.

Immediately, my eyes lock to hers. "What?"

"Is Ian cheating on Trevor?!" she cried out. "Again with fucking Mickey... God, I don't even want to begin to assume what they've managed to do..."

"Ian's not cheating on Trevor, Debs, for Christ's sake!" I cried out then, and Debbie immediately looked relieved and shocked that she had allowed her thoughts to go there. "Besides, that's not Ian's handwriting. It's mine."

Debbie blinked for a moment. "So? You could've written it for him..."

I shook my head, which silenced her. "No. I had to write to him, Debbie. For me."

"Why?" she asked.

I bit my lip. "Because Nicholas wants to adopt Iana," I said quietly.

Debbie's brows knitted together at that. "But why would you write to Mickey about Nicholas's wanting to adopt Iana?"

I sighed, leaning back against my seat. "You're a smart girl, Debs, and you can't even attempt to figure out why?" I asked her.

Debbie lowered her eyes to the letter again. "You didn't...?"

I nodded. "Yeah. He's the one thing I wanted to take back. In Mexico, I told you I had a one-night-stand while drunk off my ass in tequila. Well, there you go. Fill in the blank and come up with your own punchline here..."

Debbie's eyes became glued to my face once again and, even though I was staring out of my windshield, I could feel her shock emitting from her very being. "So, you found out who you really were, the night after you fucked Lip, so you drove down to Mexico, and then you ended up fucking Mickey?"

I sighed; I still couldn't look at her. "Yeah, if you want to be that black and white about it. But I didn't even want..." I shook my head. "Bad choice of words. I was so drunk that I didn't even realize what I'd done until after I left the bar. Then I was already on my way back to the border and all I could think about was getting home and telling the truth..."

"And then you found out you were pregnant...?"

"A couple weeks later, yeah," I said quietly. "It was a living hell, waiting for the eight-week mark to do a paternity test. Of course, it could've only been two different guys, and Lip was all too willing to give me some DNA, so by process of elimination..."

"Mickey is Iana's father," Debbie said quietly.

I gave a stiff nod. "Yeah."

"So, Lip knows, obviously..."

"He does."

"And I assume you told Ian..."

"I told him first," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"And Mickey doesn't know?"

I shook my head. "No. He knew about me being pregnant, but he didn't ever know about the DNA test outcome. So, he doesn't know that he has a daughter...who is half-Gallagher...and the niece of the love of his life..."

"Jesus," Debbie whispered. "Who else knows?"

"Um... Frank figured it out pretty much immediately—the whole being pregnant thing and the fact that Mickey was the father," I said quietly. "And then I told Fiona about the one-night-stand the same night I told you all that I was your sister. Once I decided to keep the baby, she agreed to stand by me and to not say anything..."

"Does Liam know?"

I shook my head. "No. Ian and I never discussed it with him, and I think Fiona spoke to Lip about not mentioning it either."

"And...does Trevor...?"

I lowered my eyes. "When I had my momentary lapse in my sanity, I kind of outed myself to Trevor as a horrible human being, and all the baggage that came with it..."

"Fuck," Debbie whispered.

"And then Allie and Hugo know the abridged version, and Nicholas pretty much knows the same version that Ian and Fiona know..."

"The longer version?"

"The uncut version would probably the better term..."

"Which is what?"

I sighed, finally allowing myself to turn and look at her. "That we fucked in the bathroom of a Mexican bar, while so inebriated that none of it seemed to matter anymore. I barely remember that night, Debs, and that's probably a good thing."

Debbie's eyes widened then. "Jesus," she whispered.

I nodded. "No shit," I replied. "Guess I'm not so perfect now, right?"

Debbie shook her head. "You were never perfect, Murphy," she replied simply, "but you are a Gallagher, and we sure as hell aren't perfect, so it makes you fit in just a little bit more into our insane little bunch. It's a good thing, I promise."

I did my best to smile. "Okay, then," I said, opening my car door and getting blasted by the cold air and did a spin around, for the street was covered with ice. "Fuck!" I cried out as Debbie got out and onto the sidewalk. "Now, I need a greasy burger and a milkshake and a slice of pie on the double!" I said, shutting my door and locking my car before I made my way around it and put my arm around Debbie's shoulders. "How about you?"

"You said you were buying, so it sounds good to me!" she replied, as we did our best to navigate ourselves to the front door.

. . .

Even though it was the first Valentine's Day that we were married, I kept telling Nicholas over and over again that I didn't want to do anything special. That meant that going out for a romantic dinner was definitely out, and I certainly didn't want to cook anything either. I just told him that a pizza and romantic comedies and cuddling on the couch would be perfect. However, I was in for quite a surprise after I'd put the kids down for an afternoon nap after Iana got back from preschool. Nicholas said he was going to leave the office early that day, but I didn't want to hold him to anything, and just continued with my usual routine of finding something else to focus my cleaning guru on.

When the mail arrived that afternoon, I kept the baby monitor in my hands as I heard the mail coming in through the slot. Setting it down, I walked towards the front door and gathered it up, knowing that Nicholas may inadvertently step on it coming in from work, or that Iana would think it was something to be cut up for an art project. Shaking my head and grabbing the baby monitor as I walked into the kitchen, I began going through the mail like it was a part of my routine—and, in a way, it was indeed becoming like it. Smirking at myself as I bypassed the bills, knowing that Nicholas would take care of them, I stopped at the final letter, my eyes widening at the claw-like handwriting.

Immediately, I ripped it open, and felt my senses shattering then, my entire resolve going out the window as I read this letter from Mickey. Somehow, some way, Mickey had found out that Iana existed, and that Nicholas was planning on adopting her. As my mind scrolled through the possible suspects of who it could be, I felt the bitter taste of betrayal in my mouth, and wondered who would have done such a thing. Then, I focused on the final sentence, trying to make heads or tails of the eventual outcome this would bring.

And, finally, Murphy, I want to let you know that I don't give a shit that Nicholas wants to adopt my kid. Seems like he cleaned up his act, and sounds like a good guy. I mean, who knows, you're the one that married him. All I'm asking for is a picture of my kid. I'm not going to go all weepy on you, I just want to see her.

My head jerked up sharply then as the front door opened, and Nicholas stepped inside in a triumphant manner, showcasing the groceries he had bought, and my mouth would have dropped open at the sight, although I was still numb from reading the letter.

"I am making you dinner tonight, Murphy Gallagher-Blomqvist!" Nicholas declared, a grin on his face at what he was planning on doing.

I blinked, confused. "What?"

"I found a recipe online," he said happily.

"You what?"

Nicholas grinned, obviously very proud of himself. "Mozzarella-stuffed chicken breasts, linguine pasta in a cream sauce, doused with a healthy amount of parmesan cheese, a Caesar salad, and," he said, setting the bags down, before he pulled something out, "Fiona had a chocolate crème pie on reserve for me, and look," he said, tilting it slightly, "I paid extra for them to bake it in a heart-shaped pan!"

I nodded. "Wow," I managed to get out.

"Okay, usually you'd be whooping and hollering at me doing something like this," Nicholas said softly, returning the pie to the bag and staring at me in confusion. "I mean, I think I would classify this as a big romantic gesture..."

I sighed. "Well..."

"Oh!" he said, dipping into another bag and producing a bouquet of a dozen red roses, and a heart-shaped box of chocolates, complete with a red silk bow, which he produced to me with enthusiasm. "Had to put these on reserve weeks ago, but it was worth it!"

I nodded, trying to smile. "That's great. Thank you."

Nicholas lowered his arms then, defeated. "Look, Kev saw me coming inside with all this and he almost took some of it—guess he forgot, and said V was going to rip him a new one, but I got out before he could do anything..."

I bit the inside of my cheeks then in an effort to distract myself. "Sounds reasonable..."

"Murph," he said, and something in his voice made me look up at him. "You okay? You're not like yourself..."

"Did you tell anyone?" I whispered.

"Tell anyone what?"

"About Iana being Mickey's kid..."

Immediately, Nicholas shook his head. "No. I mean, my parents knew, but they don't like to talk about other people, especially their families, without permission..."

Promptly, I shove the letter at Nicholas, who puts the flowers and chocolates down onto the kitchen table behind me, and takes it. "Must've been my side of the family, then," I said, my voice full of bitterness as I crossed my arms. "We may be South Side trash, but I guess fucking family loyalty doesn't run as deep as I thought..."

Nicholas looked at the letter then, skimming it quickly before looking up at me. "Holy shit," he whispered, his voice full of shock.

I nodded. "Yeah. And now I have to figure out who ratted me out, andwhen I do, there's going to be hell to pay," I said, my voice a hiss.