Chapter Nineteen
Liis
A month to the day after we’d returned to Falls Church, morning settled quietly over the house, and the peace felt earned.
Not that it was quiet. Between the low hum of the refrigerator, the soft clatter of dishes as Thomas moved through the kitchen, Stella banging on her highchair tray, and the muted sounds overhead telling us Olive was still getting ready for her breakfast date with Bodhi, it was busy—but it was home.
Standing at the counter with my sleeves rolled just enough to keep them clear of apple sauce or suds, I watched Thomas crack eggs into a bowl with one hand while scanning something on his phone with the other.
He had already showered, shaved, and put on the version of himself the Bureau expected to see.
His suit jacket hung over the back of a chair, waiting for him.
A tie lay folded beside it, untouched for now, as if he was holding off on that final step for as long as possible.
“Coffee?” he asked without looking up.
“Poured,” I said, lifting my mug slightly in acknowledgment.
He nodded, setting the eggshell aside and reaching for the whisk. The pace was ordinary, unhurried, two things we no longer took for granted.
Behind me, Stella let out a small, impatient sound from her chair as Olive maneuvered into place, one hand steadying Stella while the other dug through her backpack.
“Have everything you need?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said, flustered. “I’m just not sure about my paper for Educational Psychology. I had to find time to write it while juggling observation hours. Brutal.”
I laughed. “I don’t miss those days.”
“Wivvy!” Stella demanded.
“There it is,” Olive murmured, relieved. She turned, immediately brushing a piece of hair back from Stella’s eyes with her fingers, smiling. “Breakfast is coming, cranky pants.”
“Wowfuls!” Stella demanded. “Stewa wowfuls!”
Thomas grinned, still focused on the eggs. “You used to talk like that.”
Olive rolled her eyes, a reluctant smile forming. “So I’ve heard.”
She’d been different since we’d returned to Falls Church. Nothing specific that I could pin down, and not that I blamed her after surviving the shooting at Marymount only to find herself in the middle of a full-blown war. I’d worry more if she hadn’t changed at all.
“You’re going to be late,” Thomas said, glancing toward her briefly.
“No, I’m not,” Olive lilted, reaching for the small bowl we had set out earlier. “I plan for Stella delays.”
“That’s optimistic,” he said with a chuckle.
“She’s got my back today, don’t you, baby girl?” Olive said, though Stella immediately proved otherwise by reaching for the bowl before it was fully in place.
Olive caught it just in time. “Okay, maybe not.”
I watched the exchange, the ornery grin on Stella’s face, comforted we hadn’t lost this sooner than planned. Olive could’ve just as easily chosen Colorado or Illinois. Had she not been in the middle of her college career and fallen in love with Bodhi, she might have.
“What do you have planned today?” I asked, turning back to the counter, feeling a bit overwhelmed with gratitude.
“Classes until two,” Olive said. “Then I’ll pick up Stella from Brightwood, and we’ll go to the aquarium.”
“The aquarium,” Thomas repeated, glancing up again.
“She likes the fish,” Olive said simply.
“She likes pounding on the glass,” he corrected.
“She likes both,” Olive said, undeterred. “And I promised her before… well, you know, before.”
Stella squealed. “Fishies!”
“Yes! Fishies!” Olive said with an animated smile.
“Bodhi should be here by now, shouldn’t he?” I asked.
Olive hesitated, just for a second. “He had therapy this morning,” she said. “He’s coming straight here after.”
Thomas nodded once, turning back to the stove as he poured the eggs into the pan. “Good.”
Olive nodded to his short response. Thomas was a man of few words, and that single answer carried more weight coming from him than from anyone else.
There had been more than a few long, serious conversations about Olive staying with us after leaving the compound, and not all of them civil.
We advocated for her wishes, negotiated what made sense, what didn’t, what was safe, what was necessary.
Trenton protested first, but Falyn protested the hardest. Not because they didn’t trust us, but because they’d just gotten her back.
We told Shane and Liza their daughter was alive as soon as we could reach them after leaving the compound, then took Olive straight to Eakins to see them.
Liza clung to her immediately, sobbing and barely able to stand, while Shane had to use the wall to hold himself upright.
After their emotional reunion with their daughter, we weathered their anger just as we had with our own family.
They pushed hard to keep her there, nearly demanded it, until Olive stood her ground about returning to Virginia.
I didn’t fault any of them. The thought of her leaving was painful enough for me—someone who loathed feelings in general—I couldn’t imagine what it was like for them.
In the end, Trenton, Falyn, Shane, and Liza had all agreed. Reluctantly, but fully. There were plans for visits, for long weekends, for time that would make the distance feel smaller than it was. Bodhi had been part of those conversations, even when he wasn’t in the room… especially then.
But she’d chosen to stay, and once she made her decision, I promised myself to enjoy every moment for as long as I could.
“How’s it been?” I asked. “Being back on campus. Have you spoken about it to Dr. McLeod?”
“It’s only her second favorite topic. The compound still wins. I know she’s like, a respected trauma specialist, but it feels more like I’m sharing tea instead of getting therapy. We’re just… rehashing everything over and over.”
“We can find you another psychologist,” Thomas said quickly.
“No,” I interjected, trying to soften it with an awkward laugh.
“We can’t. Dr. McLeod is mapping triggers; we have to let her do her job.
” I turned to Olive. “It’ll get easier. This is the most intensive part.
It’ll taper—once a week, then every other, then monthly—until she knows you can regulate on your own. ”
Olive nodded. “Besides, it was part of the deal, right? To stay?”
I shot her a wry smile. “As if you had to twist our arms. We just laid out expectations. We have to set a good example for the rest of the family. Thomas and I see the Bureau’s psychologist. It’s necessary to process what’s happened if we hope to move forward.”
After a distinct knock that always meant Bodhi, he let himself in and walked down the hall and into the kitchen, adjusting the black sling holding his arm in place. The material was firm, medical grade, with broad straps and a stabilizing band that kept his elbow anchored and his wrist elevated.
“Morning, trauma squad. Everyone hydrated and emotionally unstable?” he asked with a wide grin.
Olive erupted in laughter, his presence already putting her at ease.
Bodhi sat in the empty chair next to her, kissing her cheek. “You ready for omelets and chill?”
Thomas stiffened, his brows furrowing. “That’ll be enough of that.”
“Just teasin’,” Bodhi said, standing to cross the kitchen, leaning against the counter next to Thomas.
Olive was on her feet before I registered the movement. “Crud! I left my lab folder on my desk!”
“Language, potty mouth!” Bodhi teased. “And in front of the baby!”
“Shush it,” Olive said, rushing to the stairs.
Bodhi watched her leave, then leaned closer to Thomas, speaking low.
“I got a job at the liquor store near George Mason. I’m saving.”
“For a new arm?” Thomas asked.
“For a ring.”
Thomas froze.
“Who do I ask for her hand, anyway? Shane? Trenton? You?”
“Unanimous approval from all three,” Thomas deadpanned, focusing extra hard on the eggs cooking in the pan.
Bodhi’s mouth turned up into a half-smile, amused. “Is that all?”
“Don’t push it,” Thomas warned.
Bodhi settled in, relaxed as his gaze drifted to the stairs. “I watch you and Liis, and seeing your brothers with their wives and kids… I want that. Ya know?”
“You should—” Thomas began before I interrupted him.
“How was therapy?” I asked.
He looked at me, then at Thomas, then back again, something lighter than I expected in his expression.
“Which one?” he asked.
Thomas let out a short breath that almost qualified as a laugh.
“Both,” I said.
“Physical is okay, I guess,” Bodhi said. “They’re pushing range of motion. It’s not fun.”
“It usually isn’t,” I said.
“It’s working, though,” he added. “They said I’m ahead of where they thought I’d be. Dr. McLeod is… intense. I think she wants me to be more torn up about what happened than I am.”
“It’s common to miss how deeply it affects you,” I said, ensuring there was no condescension in my tone.
He sighed, deflated. “She said the same thing.”
“Take it from me, kiddo. It’s best not to argue with Liis. If she wasn’t an agent, she’d be a ruthless district attorney,” Thomas said.
I sat next to Stella, wiping her hands and face with a damp cloth. “You’re not wrong. I took the LSAT,” I said. “My score could’ve gotten me in anywhere.”
Thomas turned to me. “Wait—what? How did I not know that?”
I shrugged. “The FBI seemed more fun.”
Bodhi shrugged slightly, then winced as the motion pulled at his shoulder. “I would’ve pegged you for a litigator.”
“It would’ve been an acceptable alternative,” I said. “But then this munchkin wouldn’t be here,” I said, lightening my tone for Stella as I gently squeezed her chubby arm.
“Mama, wowfuls!” she said, pointing to her empty plate.
“Yes!” I said, pressing a kiss to her now-clean cheek.
“Found it!” Olive said, skipping down the stairs.
“Awesome,” Bodhi said, standing at the ready.
Stella let out a loud, insistent sound from her chair, reminding all of us that she had been patient long enough.
“Want me to…?” Olive began.
“Nope, I have her. You two have fun. See you tonight,” I said.
“Not too much fun,” Thomas added.
We watched them leave, Olive fussing over Bodhi’s sling and chattering about the upcoming day.