Sacrifices. Retta had used that word, too. This wasn’t a lawyer discussion. This was about the Foundation, or, more accurately, about the other work of some members of the Foundation. Jessa still didn’t know what she could and couldn’t say and to whom.

“It should be easy to take what you want. You ache for it. Dream about it. Taste disappointment and regroup. Find a new way.” He made a fist. “But making that final jump is a different thing.”

A lecture . . . a warning. She couldn’t tell where this fell, so she made her position clear. “I already said yes to Retta’s offer.”

“Words are easy, Jessa. True sacrifice, the kind that will quench that thirst and make all your choices and all that drive worth it, is about action. About earning trust.”

Forget a friendly conversation. This was a warning. His expression stayed open and friendly. His voice never rose, but her body reacted. Her nerves jumped to life, and restless churning started in her stomach.

She’d been caught messing up before. Her last law firm, the one before Covington, caught her lying to a client about documents being filed when they weren’t and hours billed that ran a bit too high, and confronted her. Fired her. Agreed to a nondisclosure agreement and silence only when she threatened to expose a partner’s habit of sleeping with every female intern. The younger the better.

This moment felt a lot like that one. Pivotal and life-changing.

She had to swallow twice before talking again. “Did I do something wrong?”

“That’s a good question. Did you?” His eyebrow lifted in the same accusatory way his wife’s did.

“Is this about Gabby? Because we’re not friends.” Jessa refused to get pulled under by Gabby’s deadweight. “Our lives intersect in places, like it or not, and I don’t, but that’s all.”

“Retta and I share everything. I support what matters to her. So your doubts about taking the next step are my concern because they threaten Retta, and I can’t allow that.”

Jessa hated that he saw through her and tried to hide her shifting thoughts. She wasn’t someone who got bogged down in the “rightness” of a decision. If it worked for her, that was enough. But going full vigilante came with risks. She knew if someone in the group had to be sacrificed, it would be her, and signing up for that level of responsibility had her backpedaling.

“It’s not that I think I can’t or that I’m unworthy, but I’ve never been good at blind trust. I like to know what’s expected before I jump in, think through the options, before . . .” She almost said committing, but she had committed, so she just let the sentence hang there.

“In other words, you only said yes so that Retta and others could rush in and save you. That’s disappointing.”