They come in groups of two - I guess they think it'll be less overwhelming, that way. Parker supervises from the corner, glaring at anyone who gets too close to my injuries like some kind of demonic guardian angel.

Phoebe and Nate are up first.

"Tink!" Phoebe throws herself onto my hospital bed, knocking the wind out of me. I wrap an awkward arm around her back and try not to wheeze as she crushes my sore ribs.

"Hi, Phoebe."

"You're hurting her," Parker points out in a gruff voice.

"Sorry! Sorry." Phoebe grimaces. "I'm just so relieved to see you sitting up, talking. You scared the crap out of us!"

"I didn't mean to," I say, laughing lightly. "Swear it."

"You're okay, though?" Phoebe's voice is concerned. "Because, I hate to break this to you, but you're kind of obligated to be a bridesmaid at my wedding. Mostly because I already ordered a dress for you."

My eyes widen. "You just got engaged, like, last week."

"It is never too early to start contemplating fashion choices," she informs me very seriously. "So, what do you say?"

My eyebrows lift.

"Will you be my bridesmaid or not?"

"Oh," I murmur, my heart squeezing. "Yeah. I suppose I could do that. But, I might not be any good at it. I've never been anyone's bridesmaid, before."

"Oh." Phoebe waves my words away. "Me neither. I'm pretty sure we just use it as an excuse to eat too many wedding cake samples and drink wine."

"Well, in that case, I'm in." I smile.

She grabs my hand and squeezes. "I'm glad."

Nate steps up to the bed. "Zoe."

My eyes snap to his expression, which is even more serious than usual.

"I want to apologize." His dark eyes hold mine captive. "I made a miscalculation when it came to Birkin. Thought he wasn't a threat. That's on me."

"Nate, it's not your fault," I assure him. "I don't blame you at all. No one blames you. Trust me."

His eyes slide to Parker and, for the first time, I sense the frosty air between the two men.

I feel my eyes widen. "Oh, please don't tell me you two are fighting over this."

"Damn right we're fighting," Parker growls. "You never should've been at risk."

"I apologized and acknowledged that fact," Nate snaps back.

"Boys!" I hiss. "Stop. You're both being ridiculous."

"Seriously," Phoebe chimes in. "Zoe is fine. Lancaster is in jail, and so is the bastard who hurt her. They'll be financially responsible for every LC employee's healthcare costs for the rest of their lives, while rotting in prison." She shrugs. "In my book, that's as close to a fairy tale ending as you can get."

I smile at my friend. "Thanks for coming."

"You kidding?" She leans down and kisses my cheek. "I'll be here until you're ready to go home. And when you're home, I'll visit you there, too, and cook you whatever you want." She grins. "I'm a fabulous cook. Anything you want, just name it and I'll make it for you."

"Chocolate cupcakes with peanut butter frosting," I say immediately.

"Consider it done."

After Nate and Phoebe leave, Chase and Gemma come in. Followed by Chrissy and Shelby. Followed by Lila and Colton. And, finally, by Luca, who needs no entourage.

I see his big frame fill the doorway and feel my eyes start to tingle. To my great surprise, I see Luca and Parker exchange nods and even shake hands before Parker slips out the door to give me some privacy with my best friend.

Luca's eyes are red when he stops beside my bed.

"Babe."

"Hey, Luke."

"Not gonna lie: you've looked better."

"Thanks, buddy."

He smirks. "You keep winding up in danger, I'm gonna have to put some kind of tracking device on you."

"Creep."

"I mean it." His light blue eyes hold mine. "Then again, I suppose I'm not the one who has to look out for you, now. Time to pass the torch, I suppose."

My eyes water. "I'll always need you to look out for me, Luca. You're my brother."

He looks swiftly toward the wall and I know it's because he's holding his emotions tightly in check. When he speaks, his voice is gruffer than usual.

"Could've done worse."

"What?" I ask.

He looks back at me with red eyes. "Parker. You could've done worse." He shrugs. "He's not a bad guy."

Wow. That's the closest thing to an endorsement I've ever heard Luca give.

"Thanks, Luke."

He scowls. "Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm gonna be braiding friendship bracelets with the guy any time soon. But for the past few days, he's never left your side. And that night, when you went missing - I've never seen anyone like that. He was like..."

"Like what?"

"A man possessed." Something flashes in his light blue eyes. "He loves you, you know."

"I know," I whisper softly.

"You love him, too?"

I nod miserably. "I do."

He pulls in a breath. "Then tell him. Nothing I want more than to see you happy, babe. You deserve it. You deserve it so much."

He hugs me, then, and I let my tears flow. He'll never admit it, but I'm not the only one with wet eyes when we pull away.

In some ways, it's an ending.

For so long, it's just been Luca and me. Us against the world.

Now, things are changing. We've opened the doors to a whole new family of people, and that's going to take some getting used to - for both of us. But, like Luca told me not too long ago...

Change is scary. But you're not required to be the same person you were ten years ago, ten weeks ago, ten days ago. Hell, you don't even have to be the person you were ten minutes ago. You're free to be whoever the hell you want.

This life - full of friends and laughter and love - is a change I'm ready for.

My last visitor of the day is an unexpected one.

When Agent Conor Gallagher walks into my hospital room later that night, I'm pretty positive I'm hallucinating. I sit up straighter against my pillows and try to clear my parched throat. Parker's conveniently absent he disappeared a few minutes ago with a flimsy excuse about getting me ice water. Apparently, he thought I'd need space for whatever conversation I'm about to have with the FBI.

"Miss Bloom." Conor's voice is gruff but his icy blue eyes have thawed a bit. "Feeling better, I hope?"

"Much."

"Glad to hear it. "

"Why are you here, Agent Gallagher?"

"People who help me take down bad guys get to call me Conor."

My lips twitch. "Why are you here, Conor?"

"Two reasons." He takes a step closer to the bed. "First, to officially thank you for your help on behalf of the Federal Bureau of Investigations. Robert Lancaster is behind bars because of you. Thousands of his former employees will get compensation for a slew of illnesses because of you. That's fine work, Bloom."

My eyes are stinging again.

Damn it. When did I become such a cry baby?

I nod because I don't trust myself to speak.

"The second reason I came will probably be more interesting to you," he adds, his voice careful.

My eyebrows lift. "Oh?"

"A few days ago, when things were touch-and-go with your health, I got a call from your boyfriend. Actually, I got about ten calls, until I finally realized he wasn't about to give up and called him back." His mouth twists into a grin. "Persistent bastard, isn't he?"

I laugh. "Yes. He is."

"Anyway, he told me about your parents."

I go still.

Conor's eyes narrow. "Guess that explains why you were so intent on hacking FBI files."

"I..." I swallow hard. "I..."

"I didn't come here to call you out." Conor shrugs. "I came here because I looked into it." He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a blank envelope. "I'm not supposed to give you this it's technically classified. But I've never been overly fond of bullshit protocols."

My eyes are locked on the envelope as he passes it to me. For a moment, I just stare at it, afraid to reach out and take it.

"You want to read this, Zoe," Conor says in a voice so unlike his typical gruff tones it makes my throat start to close. "Trust me."

Without another second of hesitation, I reach out and grab the answers I've been searching for since I was five years old. My fingers shake as I slide the single sheet of paper from the folder the un-redacted version of the file I've been trying to decode for ages. As I read, my eyes fill with tears.

"Your father witnessed a murder, on his way home from work one night. It was a mob hit." Conor's voice is steady as he narrates the words swimming in front of my eyes. I'm crying too hard to read them. "He came to the FBI. Offered to testify, to put one of the highest boys in the MacDonough mob behind bars. It would've been a huge win for the Bureau, at the time."

"So... MacDonough had him killed." My voice breaks. "Before he could testify."

Conor nods. "Your father was a good man, Zoe. He was trying to do the right thing, trying to put away a criminal. A mob boss. Most people wouldn't have the guts to do that. I guess that brave streak running in your veins is genetic, Bloom." His eyes are steady on mine. "In a way... It's almost poetic justice that you were part of the efforts to put MacDonough away last spring, when you helped your friend Phoebe escape from him. Even if you didn't know it at the time, you were taking down the man who ordered your parents' murder. You got your revenge he's behind bars. He'll never breathe free air again, if that's any consolation."

I take a shuddering breath. "Doesn't really change anything, though, does it?"

Conor shifts from foot to foot, looking uncomfortable as he watches the tears stream down my face. "I just... thought you'd want to know."

My wet eyes lock on his serious blue ones. "I did. Thank you," I whisper hoarsely. "This... finally knowing... finally having answers... it means everything to me."

He nods.

"Can I keep this?" I ask, clutching the document in my hands.

"Of course." With a final nod, he turns and heads for the door. "And, Zoe?"

My eyes fly from the paper to the gruff, scruffy agent in the doorway. "Yeah?"

"I meant it. About the job offer." His eyes are intent. "You ever change your mind about working with the Bureau, you call me. I think you could do a lot of good for your country. I think you could make your parents proud."

He doesn't wait for an answer; he just walks out of the room, leaving me alone. I read the paper in my hands over and over, hugging it to my chest when the words start to blur before my leaking eyes. I don't try to fight the tears. I surrender to the hollow, aching awareness slowly filling my chest cavity.