The table seemed almost empty, reminding Mal sharply of the time after Miranda, when there was an empty space where Wash had sat, and Zoe spent most of her time locked in her bunk. At least this time Hank was alive down in the infirmary, and Zoe was with him, sharing the meal, and their numbers were made up by the children, swinging their feet under the old wood and listening to the conversation going on above their heads.

Jayne, as usual, finished first, and surprised most of them by pushing his chair back with a squeal. “I’d better take a tray down to Indigo,” he said gruffly, walking behind the counter and slopping more stew into a bowl. “Then you can flap your jaws about things without me gumming up the works.”

“He’ll sit and talk while Indigo eats,” River explained after he’d gone, the sound of his boots disappearing down the stairs. “Old times.”

“That’s nice o’him,” Kaylee said, wiping David Gabriel’s mouth where he was sucking down mush.

“Which?” Simon wanted to know. “The chance to tell tall tales, or giving us the time to talk about him?”

“Both, I guess.”

Mal stirred slightly. “Not sure there’s much to talk about.”

“You haven’t come to a decision yet, then?” Simon asked.

“Nope. I’m thinking maybe a good sleep might present a solution to me, but I ain’t holding my breath.”

“Jayne doesn’t know what to think,” River said quietly.

“No more’n the rest of us, xiao nu.”

“But he feels he should.” River plucked at a lock of hair that had fallen into her face, dividing and examining it, counting each strand as she pulled it loose. “He brought you here, and he thinks it’s his fault.”

“It isn’t,” Freya assured her.

“I know that. But I’m not the one burning inside.”

Mal put his water glass down with perhaps more force than was warranted, making its contents slop a little over the side. “He didn’t shoot Hank.”

“He believes Indigo could have.”

Mal looked at his surrogate daughter. “You ain’t been able to persuade him otherwise?”

She shook her head, more hair falling in dark waves around her face. “He’s afraid.”

“Jayne?” Simon couldn’t stop himself. No matter how much better he got on with his brother-in-law, it was still ... well ... Jayne.

River shot him a glare and said, “A man who never feels fear is either stupid or dead.”

Mal chuckled, just for a moment. “Ain’t heard it put better’n that in a long time.”

“I like him,” Bethie announced.

“Your Uncle Jayne?” Kaylee said, smiling. “A’course you do.”

“No. Indigo.” Her words effectively silenced the table.

Mal cleared his throat. “Bethie, honey, you liked that spider took up residence in the corner of the cargo bay that time, and he was poisonous.” He shook his head. “And how’d you know anyway?”

“I said hello.”

Everyone held their breath, waiting to see how Mal would react.

“You did, did you?”

“Yes. And he’s not what’s sick here.” She shovelled another spoonful of stew into her mouth, adding indistinctly, “Not truthful, but not sick.”

“Close your mouth when you’re chewing,” Simon said absently, his mind going over all the options that might have gone wrong.

“He wouldn’t have hurt me,” Bethie insisted, swallowing mightily.

“Has to be a Tam trait,” Mal muttered. “Going places they damn well know they shouldn’t, and all without telling anyone.”

“I did apologise,” River said quite distinctly.

“I know you did. Just making a point.”

“Bethie.” Simon spoke, his voice quiet, calm. “We will talk about this.”

She looked at him, her eyes wide, mouth slightly open, the perfect picture of innocence with just a hint of hard-done-by. Then her expression changed and she looked down at her plate, not wanting to meet his gaze. “Yes, Daddy,” she said meekly.

Mal glanced at River, but she shook her head minutely. Hmmn. Something for him to ponder on.

As in the previous few evenings, nobody felt like sitting around and chatting, so within a very short time only Mal and Freya were left in the kitchen. Simon had taken Bethie to get her ready for bed, and probably to have that chat with her as well, while Kaylee had taken charge of the other children. They were probably all going to end up in two of the bunks, bundled up together.

River, though, had taken Caleb with her to her garden. She wasn’t going to be able to sleep until Jayne came to bed, and he wasn’t in the mood quite yet. His deep-banked anger was scratching at her like a burr, and she knew putting her hands into good Lazarene earth would help keep her grounded, quite literally, and not liable to take it into her broken mind to massacre everyone in their sleep.

Mal watched Freya stack the dishes in the sink. “Leave ‘em. They can wait,” he advised.

“I wasn’t going to do them now,” she said, smiling at him. “Besides, I cooked. Someone else cleans up.”

“Supposed to be Jayne, according to the rota.”

“True.” She bit her lip, reminding him of their daughter.

“I’ll help in the morning,” he said, slipping his arm around her waist.

She turned into his embrace. “Might be a good idea,” she agreed. “We don’t have that much crockery left.”

“I’ll put it on the list to get some.”

“Good idea.”

Tilting his head slightly, he asked, just a little diffidently, “Did you ... uh ... say something to Bethie?”

She shrugged. “Might.”

“What?”

Freya sighed. “I sort of pointed out that Bethie knew exactly what she’d been doing, and that she shouldn’t pretend to Simon that she didn’t understand.”

“She’s a kid.”

“She’s a genius.”

“Don’t mean she’s not a kid.” He held up his hand to forestall any argument. “And I’m not saying you’re wrong. She can manipulate folks with the best of ‘em.”

“It must be our bad influence.”

“Must be.”

She grinned, then snuggled a little closer to him. “Are you going to take a last turn around Serenity?”

“No,” he said, feeling her pressed down the length of his body. “Jayne’s still up, River’s gardening ... maybe I’ll just turn everything down. They can find their own way to bed.”

She led the way out of the kitchen, switching the lights off as they went, and he waited until she was safely down the ladder before continuing onto the bridge, his gaze caught by the swirls outside.

He watched the snow falling, and wondered idly if they were going to get snowed in. He remembered winters back on Shadow when so much of the stuff had fallen overnight that the hands had had to come and dig them out, clearing the drifts from in front of the doors and windows. Not too much of a hardness for them, as his Ma would always make sure they had extra rations and hot coffee after. She’d been different to a lot of the ranchers around, trying to keep as many of the men on as possible, even during the lean winter months.

“Just makes sense,” she’d told him one evening as she showed him the accounts. “Keep ‘em on and they stay loyal. That way you ain’t having to look for good workers when you need ‘em.”

He’d nodded, but even then he knew it was more because of her nature, and not economics that had made the decision.

He chuckled slightly. As much as he loved building snowmen, having snowball fights, the best part about snow was coming in afterwards and his Ma fussing around him and insisting he go and get changed before he caught his death of cold, and the hot chocolate with little marshmallows in she had ready for when he came back down. Or maybe the best bit was just sitting in front of the fire, his hands cupped around a hot mug, chatting with his mother and be a family.

Reaching out he tapped the buffer panel warning light out of habit, then flicked a couple of switches to turn Serenity’s power down before turning his back on the snow and heading for his bunk. Besides, there were other winters he remembered during the war when the white had bled red, and it had been frostbite and not hot drinks to look forward too, and these were all in his memory as well, but lately he’d found it easier to think of the good times and not dwell on the bad as he climbed down the ladder – probably all due to Frey.

She was already in bed, and their conversation from before dinner continued.

“You want to go?” he asked as he began to strip, sitting on the bed and tugging his boots off.

“There’s nothing holding us here.”

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Now you’re lying to me.”

“Are you peeking?” she joked.

“My beautiful ai ren, I know you. Something’s rotten in the state of Cason’s Point, and it’s making you antsy.”

“Paraphrasing Hamlet? I’m impressed.”

“Don’t be. River had a version on in on the Cortex last time she took the late watch.”

“So? I know you’ve read it.”

“Yeah, well, permaybehaps I have.” He stood up and pushed his suspenders from his shoulders, undoing the buttons on his pants. “And if I kinda identified with him, well that makes no never mind.”

“You did?”

“Lost his Pa, and someone comes in to do him out of his inheritance, yeah, sort of.”

“Someone?”

“The Alliance. Okay, it ain’t perfect, but at least I read it.”

“I’m still impressed.”

He grinned. “That was the idea.”

“And?”

“I thought it was a ‘but’.”

“And such a nice ‘butt’ too.” She was peering at his ass as he dropped his pants onto the chair.

“Hey. I’m trying to be serious here.”

“Okay. I’ll stay on my side of the bed.”

“That ain’t necessary.” His shirt joined his other clothes.

“Good.”

“So you tell me what’s holding us here.”

“You’re sneaky.”

“My middle name.” He slid in next to her, pulling the sheet over them both.

She snuggled into him, her body conforming to his. “You’re right, of course.”

“Always am.”

“Well, not always ...” She yelped softly as he pinched her. “ ... but more than your fair share. There’s something really bad going on out there, over and above the general badness.”

“That bad.”

“Mmn. I’m so tempted to say let’s get the hell out of atmo and make for the stars.”

“But you’re not going to.”

“You’re captain. Or so I’ve heard. What you say goes.”

“Only when it suits the rest of gorram crew.”

“That’s not the point.”

“No, I know. But you’re right too. And I’d bet money – well, Jayne’s money – that the Tanner boys are involved with slavers.” He’d already told her about the man he’d recognised in Addie’s place.

“Do you think Indigo’s involved in it?”

“I don’t know. That’s part of what’s worrying me.”

She could see the furrow between his eyebrows, and wanted to smooth it out. “Maybe you should have set Jayne to be his guard.”

“Oh, I got a better watchdog than that.”

“Bethie?” Freya asked on a sigh.

“Well, I don’t doubt she’s trying to peek, no matter what any of us told her, but I was thinking of someone else.”

Light dawned. “River.”

“Indigo upset Jayne. And even though it goes against the laws of nature, she loves the big xue jiu.”

“You should be glad love has nothing to do with suitability,” she pointed out.

“Oh, I am. Every day.” He leaned over far enough to kiss her lightly on her lips.

She hummed in pleasure. When he lay back on the pillow, though, she asked, “So you do want us to leave too?”

“Now I’m fair sure that’s not what I said, woman.”

“Well, I just wondered. Because if you want me to have to put my clothes back on and walk through a cold ship to the bridge to get us ready to take off –”

“We’re but a handful of steps from the bridge.”

“And I know that’s why you’ve never suggested we move down to the lower crew quarters.”

“And be next to Kaylee when she’s …” He shuddered theatrically. “Bad enough I have to imagine it.”

“Could be worse.”

“How?”

“I could suggest we share the shuttle with Jayne and River.”

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that.”

“Anyway, you didn’t answer my question.”

“Was there one?”

“Do you want me to interrupt my oh-so-necessary beauty sleep so we can take off?”

“Did I say anything about us going anywhere tonight?”

“Good.”

“And I wouldn’t make you put your clothes back on anyway.”

“You’d make me go naked?”

“Could be fun.”

“Jayne wanders around sometimes looking for food.”

“Then you ain’t going anywhere. Naked or otherwise.” He ran his hand up her thigh and made her shiver delightfully.

---

“Did you have a word with her?”

Simon nodded, knowing Kaylee wasn’t going to be able to stop herself from asking before he could even put his foot over the threshold. “Yes, I did.”

“And?”

“You know, you could have come with me.”

“Hey, I tell her off all too often as it is.”

Simon slid the door closed behind him. “So you didn’t want to be the bad guy again?” When she nodded he had to hold back the smile. “Sweetheart, she’s psychic. She knows.”

Kaylee sat down heavily on the bed, her usual sunny disposition clouded and grey. “Yeah.”

He felt guilty for teasing. “Kaylee, don’t.” He lowered himself next to her. “She’s also a little girl. It’s a strange combination.”

“Strange?”

“Living out here, doing what we do, she knows – because she’s been told – that people aren’t to be trusted, not generally. But she can see into them, and that makes her think she knows better.”

Kaylee sighed, so deeply it almost made the bed vibrate. “And it ain’t gonna get any better, is it?”

“Honestly?” Simon shook his head. “No, I don’t think it is. Our circumstances aren’t likely to change at any time in the near future, she’s going to start growing up ... no, I think we’ve got more of this to come.”

“Are you going to talk to her when she starts wanting to see unsuitable boyfriends?”

“Oh, no.” He put his arm around her and hugged. “I’m going to leave that up to you.”

“Coward.”

“Me and Hank ... absolutely.”

She sighed again and sank into him. “You think she’s right? ‘Bout Indigo?”

“I don’t know.”

“But she doesn’t think he did it.”

“No.” He paused for just a moment. “I’m inclined to agree.”

“Me too. Only that means it was someone else we don’t know about.”

“Mal will figure it out,” Simon promised.

“You know, I really don’t like this place.”

Simon lay down, pulling her with him to lie quietly, just giving comfort. “I know, bao bei. I know.”

---

“I’m waiting for the other boot.”

Zoe turned from where she had put the tray they’d used to eat from on the counter. “What?”

“Something my Gran used to say.” Hank was talking about his maternal grandmother who’d brought him up when his parents died. “She loved her sayings, did Gran.” He was picking at the edge of the dressing on his stomach.

“Stop that,” Zoe admonished mildly. “And what about a boot?”

“Waiting for it to drop. You know, feelin’ like there’s something we don’t know.”

Zoe sat down again on the stool next to him. “I think there’s a lot we don’t know about.”

“You know what I mean.” His fingers drifted towards the edge of the dressing again.

She caught them in hers. “You want I should tie you down?”

“Maybe when I’m feeling better.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

He turned his hand enough so that they were palm to palm. “I’d rather be in my own bed,” he complained. “Our bed. Next to you.”

“What’s so different?” She leaned over him. “And we wouldn’t be able to do anything anyway, not in your current condition.”

He groaned, but it wasn’t in pain. “Zoe, you know I love you, right?”

She looked down into his grey eyes, his brown hair mussed more than ever, and knew her next words were nothing but the honest truth. “I love you too, Hank.”

“Thank Buddha for that.” He pulled her hand up to his lips and kissed it tenderly.

---

Jayne stepped into the shuttle and closed the door. In the dim light he could see the alcove he’d built for Caleb to sleep in was curtained off, meaning his son was asleep, more than likely sucking on the fabric book that Hank had bought him. River, on the other hand, was sitting up in their bed, sketching, the blanket tucked under her arms.

“You okay?” he asked.

“I was going to ask you that.” She didn’t look up, preferring to continue the soft pencil lines.

“Me? I’m shiny.”

“Jayne.”

“What?” When she didn’t answer, he sighed. “Okay, maybe I ain’t. And maybe I’m fong luh trying to lie to a mind-reading genius, but ...”

“I know.”

He let his head drop between his shoulders. “It’s all my fault, Riv.”

“How do you work that out?”

“I shouldn’t’ve got Mal to come here.”

“He decided to do that himself.”

“Then I should’ve made Hank stay on board when I went hunting.”

She didn’t answer, just leaned over to place the sketchpad on the floor, a breeze from somewhere making the page tremble, and the two people depicted dance a little. Finally she said, “Jayne.”

“What?”

“Come to bed.”

“Ain’t sleepy.”

“Neither am I. Come to bed.”

“You ain’t gonna get round me that way. I’m too ...” He struggled to find the right words, but they wouldn’t come. “I thought I might go and work out for a while.”

“We could snuggle.”

“Not the kind of work out I was thinking of.”

“Jayne ...”

“What?”

She tossed the blanket back, and her naked form glowed. Well, nearly naked. There was a red ribbon tied around her left big toe. “Undress me.”

He felt his body respond, one urgency replaced, almost against his will, with another. “Moonbrain ...”

---

Mal had fallen asleep at last, worn out but smiling as he drifted into dreams of a warm woman and cold snow.

Freya dozed, waiting for the ship to calm before she could join him, knowing Zoe was still sitting with Hank in the infirmary, and Jayne and River were indulging in a little play of their own in the shuttle. At least the children were all fast in the land of Nod, while Kaylee and Simon were talking quietly.

Most nights there wasn’t a problem, but somehow, trying to see what was going on, and with a stranger on board, she was finding it hard to shield herself. Not that she could see much. As she’d said to Mal, if she hadn’t known she wasn’t pregnant, she’d be considering it enough to go and knock their young doctor up. So to speak. As it was, she felt fuzzy, like someone was actively trying to block her, and it made her wakeful.

Maybe it was Indigo. She could tell he wasn’t asleep, but lying in the dorm room, his hands behind his head, staring into the superstructure. He didn’t seem to be thinking about anything in particular, but to her he was a small dark cloud, and the feeling that he was lying through his teeth made hers grate.

She knew River thought he was covering for someone else, and she tended to agree, but there was more, something that made him need to lie. Briefly she wondered if it was Mallory, that perhaps he was Josh’s father, but that didn’t make any more sense than anything else she’d imagined.

Mal muttered something in his sleep and shifted slightly, throwing his arm across her.

For a long minute she studied him, his hair mussed, the shadow of beard darkening his chin, and had to smile. Her love for him was something tangible, wrapping her in light that kept the darkness at bay, warming her through. She didn’t need the heat turned up in the bunk – he was enough.

She had to smile. If he’d been awake and she’d told him, he’d have teased her about it, then agreed that he felt the same.

Maybe she could nudge him a little. Not exactly wake him up, but ...

What was that?

Something prickled on her consciousness, sending all other thoughts to the back of her mind.

She closed her eyes and opened herself up, grimacing as the miasma of Cason’s Point made her feel dirty. Clearer, a little, but not enough that she could even make a guess at what was causing it. She touched the minds inside Serenity again, but it wasn't one of them. Not even the cloud that was Indigo, although perhaps there was a flavour that resembled the mercenary.

The prickle flared into pain for a microsecond, and her breath caught before it died back to an ember.

Maybe it wasn’t real. Cason’s Point was sick, they all knew that, so maybe this was just a reflection, a manifestation of that sickness, condensed down into a single point ...

Yeah. Right.

Slipping from under Mal’s arm (at the same time as quietly suggesting he stay asleep) she quickly pulled on her pants and shirt before climbing the ladder in bare feet to the hallway above. The disturbance – or whatever it was – seemed closer, but not much. She shivered, then wondered why, since the air was cool but not enough to cause the discomfort that washed over her. Buttoning her shirt higher, she carried on down to the cargo bay.

---

Mal turned over and found nobody next to him. Whereas for a goodly portion of his life that had been the norm, for the past few years he’d got so used to Freya warming her side of the bed that her absence brought him to the edge of full wakefulness.

He glanced blearily around the room, noting her top clothes were gone but her underwear was still where she’d tossed it. Even more significant was the fact that her boots were under the chair, so she couldn’t have gone far. Probably felt the need for a sugar stick, or maybe a game of Patience, he decided, something she did on occasion when sleep escaped her. He felt his lips curve as his eyes began to close again, imagining her sitting at the old table, her feet curled around the legs of the chair, staring at a red nine and wondering if she could cheat to make it come out. His brain began to disconnect, his mind slipping into a world where Jayne, dressed only in a handful of playing cards, was betting everyone they couldn’t find the Joker, when …

Mal!

He sat bold upright in bed. Xin gan?

I need you. Cargo Bay. Now.

He got the overwhelming impression of snow, of icy cold, enough that goosebumps raced down his skin, then he tossed the sheets from his body and rolled upright, grabbing his soft sleep pants from the end of the bed.

Mu qin needs us. This was River.

I know. I’m coming.

In little more than the space of a dozen heartbeats he was on the catwalk over the bay, meeting Jayne coming out of the shuttle. He at least had taken his time to put his boots on and was doing up the fastenings on his heavy jacket, but River was already at the open bay door, her thin nightdress plastered to her by the cold wind that whipped inside, leaching the warmth from the ship.

“Where?” Mal asked, jumping the stairs two at a time and feeling the metal treads biting into the soles of his feet.

“I got it, Mal,” Jayne said, pushing past him and running out into the blizzard.

Mal went to follow but River stepped in front of him. “He knows where they are.”

“They?” He glanced at his surrogate daughter. “Who’s they?”

She looked annoyed, but at herself, not him. “I don’t know,” she admitted, her brow furrowed. “Freya and … someone else.”

“But Frey’s out there?”

“Yes. Now shh.” She put cold fingers to his lips and turned back to the storm.

Can’t shut me up like that, he thought pointedly, and as sharply as he could.

She shot him a glare. Shh. Listening.

He subsided, but his eyes were straining to see out beyond the wall of falling white, ignoring the chill biting into his exposed chest. If he didn’t know better he’d think Cason’s Point had fallen off the edge of the ‘verse into that inky darkness he could barely discern beyond, and part of him was sincerely wishing that was the case, but preferably without his wife.

Time seemed to stretch, and it could have been a minute or half a lifetimes before he ground out, “River …”

“She’s coming.”

A figure loomed in the snow, carrying someone, and for a second his heart stopped beating when he thought it was Frey, but just as quickly he realised whoever Jayne had in his arms was too slight. Besides, Freya herself appeared in the murk behind him, bundled up in the merc’s jacket.

“Are you totally fong luh?” he demanded, stepping out into the snow and feeling his feet freeze immediately. Diyu knew how she was, having been out for a lot longer.

“Probably.” She staggered.

“Gorramit, Frey.” He put his arm under her shoulder and helped her inside, hearing River close the door behind them with a clang. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“It’s just a little cold,” she assured him, shivering nonetheless.

“Little?” He looked down at her bare feet. “You wanna get frostbite?”

She touched his chest with a trembling hand. “You’re not much better. And I had to find her.”

“I ain’t been wandering about in it.” Mal glanced towards where Jayne was disappearing with his burden through the common area door where Simon was probably already waiting in the infirmary. “Who is she?”

“I don’t know. But she was freezing to death.”

“You ain’t much better.” He could feel her almost vibrating. “Come on. You need to be looked at too.” Easing the coat from her back he tossed it onto a crate, turning back in time to catch her. “Whoa, there.”

“Sorry. My feet don’t seem to want to work.”

“And your lips are an interesting shade of blue,” Mal said as he scooped her into his arms.

“No, put me down.”

“Just enjoy the ride, dong mah?”

He barely noted the children clustered at the far end of the common area as he carried her into the infirmary where Jayne had put the young girl down on the counter space they used as a secondary bed. Simon was already busy with applying sensors.

It took him all of a second to make a decision and put Freya down for just enough time to make a space on the opposite counter by the simple expediency of pushing some of the doctor’s equipment to one side with a straight arm, then lifted his wife up to sit in front of him.

“Sir.” Zoe was holding out a blanket.

“Thanks.” He took it gratefully, wrapping it around Freya and feeling his first mate putting one around his own shoulders. He pulled it closer, the scar in the centre of his chest aching, and he rubbed absently at it, until an involuntary twitch on Freya’s part had her toes colliding with his ribs.

“Frey?”

“Sorry.” The expression on her face showed growing discomfort. “My feet … I think the feeling’s coming back.”

“Here.” He pulled the stool in front of her and sat down, lifting her feet into his lap. Taking hold of one he began to massage, feeling the calluses on his hands from the hard work and gun play catching on the faint scars still visible from what Wing did to her.

“Sorry,” she whispered, picking up his thoughts.

“Ain’t your fault, darlin’. And I killed him for it.”

She winced, then started to pant gently as blood flowed into cold veins.

“Sorry, ai ren,” he whispered.

“Not your fault either.” She smiled through the pain.

He carried on rubbing, as gentle as he could while still being effective. “You do know we’re going to talking about this, don’t you?”

A sharp intake of breath preceded her saying, “I’m looking forward to it.”

His eyebrow lifted, but he asked over his shoulder, “Any idea who she is?”

“I have no idea. She hasn’t got any identification on her.” Simon was busy, and spoke bluntly. “She's comparatively well-nourished, but the hypothermia isn’t doing her any good.” He attached another sensor to her chest, rearranging the warming blanket over her.

Hank touched Zoe’s hand. “Hon, help me up.”

“No.”

“She needs the bed more’n me.”

“No.”

“Zoe –”

“No,” Simon put in, not turning. “I can do what I need to from here.”

“Mal –”

“You ain’t going anywhere, Hank,” Mal said firmly.

“Mal, it’s okay,” Freya said, pulling her feet from his hands. “You need to deal with this.”

“You sure?” He looked into her face.

“Be captain.”

He glanced down at her feet, where her toes were at least starting to pink up. He stood up, reaching over to pull the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “You keep warm,” he said quietly.

“I will.” She nodded as he turned and walked past the medbed to where Simon was working on the girl.

“Has she been assaulted?” Mal asked bluntly.

“She’s just a kid!” Hank blurted.

“That don’t mean much to those that are that way inclined.”

“I know, but ...”

“He has to ask, Hank,” Zoe said quietly. “If she has it’s a whole new mess of problems when she wakes up.”

“I know, but ...” He stopped, trying to content himself with squeezing Zoe’s hand.

“There’s no sign of any assault,” Simon said, still working. “At least nothing recent. I can’t tell without a more thorough examination if there was anything in the past, and I’m loathe to do that until she wakes up.”

“There wasn’t.”

They all looked towards the door, even Simon.

Indigo stood, bare-chested, clad only in his pants.

“You know who she is?” Mal asked testily.

“Her name’s Sara. She’s my daughter.”

to be continued