“Exactly.” She stands. Starts gathering mugs. “We use our actual jobs to investigate. Financial analysis and legal research. Everything we can do without breaking more laws than we already have. After next week. I think we need to observe and be safe this week like I said yesterday.”
The ring burns in my pocket. Evidence I’ve already tampered with.
“We’ve crossed a line,” I say quietly.
“I know.”
“We can’t uncross it.”
“I know.” She rinses the mugs. “But we can keep going forward. Figure out what we’re building toward.”
My phone buzzes.
We both jump.
Calendar reminder: Sunday Dinner - Dad’s - 5 PM
“Shit.” Alex looks at her own phone. “Dylan, we have dinner in two hours.”
My stomach drops.
Right. Sunday dinner. Mandatory.
“I can’t go to your dad’s.”
My hand goes to my throat. I don’t realize I’m doing it until Alex’s eyes track the movement.
Alex’s face does something complicated. “Dylan?—”
“He’ll take one look at me and know. You know he will.” My hand is still at my throat. I force it down. “He’ll do that thing where he hugs me and asks how my week was and I’ll just—I’ll crack. I’ll tell him everything because he’s the only father I’ve ever really had and I can’t lie to him. Not about this.”
“Shit.” Alex sits back hard. “You’re right. He’ll see it on both of us the second we walk in.”
“We have to go anyway.”
“I know.”
“Because if we don’t?—”
“He’ll show up here with food and questions and that look he gets.” Alex gestures vaguely. “The one that saystell me what’s wrong, korítsι mou, I’ll fix it.” She does an impressive impersonation of her Greek dad.
“And we can’t have him here. Not with—” I gesture at everything. The ring. The laptop. The murder board arriving Wednesday. “—all this.”
“No.” She stands. Starts pacing again. “So we go. We eat. We perform normal twenty-seven-year-old drama. Bar exam stress. Work bullshit. Boy problems.”
“You don’t have boy problems.”
“I’ll make some up. David’s always good for fictional drama.” She’s already planning. “I’ll say he’s being possessive or whatever. Dad will go all Greek and protective and it’ll distract him from the fact that we’re investigating a serial killer our boss is protecting.”
“When you say it like that it sounds insane.”
“That’s because it is insane.” She checks her phone. “But it’s also Sunday and your Greek dad is expecting us and if we don’t show he’ll drive here with enough spanakopita to feed an army.”
“He’s not my Greek dad.”
“Dylan, he’s been feeding you since you were twelve. You literally cried into spanakopita last month and told me he was the only father you ever had.”
“Why do you remember that?”
