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“My car’s this way,” I tell her.

“I can grab a cab.”

“You could,” I say as we cross the garage, “but I’m driving you home.”

I unlock the SUV, wait until Emma climbs inside, then circle to the driver’s seat and pull out of the garage.

She wraps both hands around her coffee and smiles across the console. “Thanks for the ride.”

“You bought the coffee.”

I merge into traffic, watching brake lights stretch ahead of us. The conversation from my office keeps replaying in my head.

“I wasn’t expecting to tell you all of that,” I admit.

“I know.”

“I’ve spent years avoiding those conversations.”

“You weren’t avoiding them.” She rests the cup in the holder between us before looking my way. “You were waiting until someone felt safe enough to have them with.”

We roll through another intersection before Emma speaks again, focusing on safer topics for a change.

She asks how Sprout managed to eat half of one of the twins’ coloring books without getting sick, and I tell her he followed that achievement by throwing up rainbow vomit across Mara’s kitchen rug.

Emma laughs hard enough to wipe tears from the corner of her eye before telling me Theo apparently convinced half the marketing department that I once worked for the Secret Service.

By the time I turn onto her street, the lights are still on in her apartment.

Emma notices them as I pull up outside the building. “Kira’s waiting.”

“For me?” I nod. “Shall I meet her now?”

Emma unbuckles her seat belt before looking across at me. “Yeah, that might be good. If you don’t mind.”

She opens the passenger door, but the building entrance swings open before she reaches the sidewalk.

A brunette with the same warm brown eyes as Emma steps outside, folds her arms against the evening breeze, and walks toward us with the composed confidence of someone who has already decided she’s staying until she has answers.

“There you are,” she says, looking Emma over before her attention shifts to me. “You said you’d be home after work.”

“I got caught up helping Bane.” Emma gestures toward me. “Kira, this is Benny Wolf.”

Kira offers her hand without hesitation. “It’s nice to meet you.”

I shake it. “You too.”

She studies me for a couple of seconds before speaking again. “Emma’s had a difficult few years, and she’s finally starting to look like herself again.” Her tone stays polite, though every word carries purpose. “As her sister, I pay attention to the people she spends time with.”

“I’d expect you to.”

She gives a small nod, apparently satisfied by the answer. “Good.”

Emma exhales beside us. “I told you she’d interview you.”

“I’m having a conversation,” Kira says, glancing at her with a patient smile before looking back at me. “There’s a difference.”

“We’ll see,” Emma says, a little exasperatedly. “Come on, let’s take this inside.”