We stand there for a long time, holding each other in the fading afternoon light. Eventually, Jade's trembling stops and her breathing evens out. When she finally pulls back, her eyes are red but dry.
"Saturday," she says quietly. "We still have to get through Saturday."
The dinner party. My parents. As if we don't have enough to worry about.
"We do," I agree. "Which means we need to prepare."
She laughs, but there's no humor in it. "How do you prepare to meet your boyfriend's parents while hiding a murder?"
"The same way you prep for any high-stakes meeting." I lead her to the sofa and sit down beside her, keeping her hands clasped in mine. "You go in with a strategy. You know what to expect. And you don't let anything throw you off your game."
"This isn't a business negotiation, Phoenix."
"Everything is a negotiation." I lean back against the cushions, pulling her with me until she's tucked against my side. "Especially my parents."
She's quiet for a moment, processing. I can almost see the wheels turning behind her eyes.
"Tell me about them," she says finally. "Really tell me. Not the version you'd put in a press release. The truth."
I take a deep breath, trying to figure out where to start. I've spent my whole life managing other people's perceptions of my family, crafting narratives and smoothing over rough edges. It's strange to think about stripping all that away.
"My father is intense," I say slowly. "He's brilliant, driven, and completely ruthless when it comes to getting what he wants. He built his empire from nothing, and he expects everyone around him to meet his standards. If you show weakness, he'll exploit it. If you try to bullshit him, he'll know immediately."
"That's reassuring."
"I'm not trying to scare you. I'm trying to prepare you." I tighten my arm around her shoulders. "The key with my father is confidence. He respects people who stand their ground, even if he disagrees with them. Don't try to impress him with money or status because he has more of both than anyone you've ever met. Just be direct. Be honest. And don't let him intimidate you."
"Easier said than done."
"You faced down Marcus Webb in that cabin. You can handle my father."
She flinches at the mention of Marcus, and I immediately regret bringing it up. But she needs to understand that she's stronger than she thinks. She's already survived the worst thing that could happen to her. A dinner party with wealthy strangers should be easy by comparison.
"What about your mother?" she asks, changing the subject.
I hesitate, trying to find the right words. My mother is harder to explain than my father. Nicholas Crawford is a force of nature, obvious and overwhelming. Olive Crawford is something subtler. Something more dangerous in its own way.
"My mother sees everything," I say finally. "She notices details that other people miss. Body language, tone of voice, the way someone holds their wine glass or chooses their words. She'll know if you're hiding something."
Jade pulls back to look at me, her eyes wide. "I am hiding something. We both are."
"I know."
"So what am I supposed to do? Sit across from her at dinner and pretend everything is fine while she's reading my every move?"
"Yes." I cup her face in my hands, forcing her to meet my gaze. "That's exactly what you're going to do. Because you're smart and you're strong and you can handle this."
"Phoenix, I don't know if I can."
"You can." I brush my thumbs across her cheekbones, feeling the softness of her skin beneath my fingers. "We're going to get through this. Together. I promise."
She searches my face for something, reassurance or certainty or maybe just hope. I try to give her all of it. She's my whole world. I won't let anything hurt her, not the police, not anonymous threats, not even my own family.
"What if they find out?" she whispers. "About Marcus. About what we did. What if your mother sees it on my face?"
"She won't."
"You can't know that."
