“Do I think? Hmm, what an interesting way to phrase that question. Do I think so? No. But do you think I am? Maybe.”

“Maybe.” An echo, not an admission.

“I think you’re trying to justify why you think I am. Trying to make it make sense.”

“Sure. Let’s play,” Jewel said, nodding. “You’re intelligent and very forward. Confident and relentless. Usually people who are sheltered past the point of reason end up as shy and awkward sweetheart wallflowers.”

“But not me.”

“Not you.”

“You should be careful,” Stella said. She had Jewel right where she wanted her. “You might not think so now, but the novelty of me will never wear off.”

The VAN HANEN VINEYARDS sign had a simple design. The name. Some grapes. A couple of squiggly lines. Dry as the sun-bleached wood it had been stamped on. Considering the rest of the house, Stella had expected something a whole lot more dynamic and not quite so pedestrian. The symmetrical rows of tethered grapes behind it weren’t anything to write home about either.

“I’m not offering, and I’m not interested, but why aren’t you allowed to date?” Jewel asked as she stared at the hills in the distance. “Tell me more about your parents.”

As they turned back around, Stella made a mental note: Unfiltered Jewel made far less eye contact than her crafted-for-public-consumption counterpart. “You mean the people who would snatch me out of society and lock me in a tower if they could see me, here, being gay as hell.”

That surprised Jewel. “Because you’re gay?”

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. Don’t get me wrong, they have a lot of issues, but that isn’t one of them. They don’t care about my sexuality,” she said. “The problem is they don’t want me connecting with people, period. No dating. No friends. No acquaintances.”

“That seems”—Jewel paused—“abusive.”

“It is. Just not the kind the government cares about.”

“Do you need help?”

“Oh yes. Lots. I go to therapy every week. We even have family therapy once a month. We had a breakthrough, which ended with the agreement that I would be allowed to use Golden Rule, which is how I ended up here ruining your little game. What a fun coincidence.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Jewel remained unfazed and endearingly serious. “Do you need help getting away from them?”

Francis’s earlier warning replayed in Stella’s head: The kindness of her heart has a lot of ulterior motives.

Why was Jewel offering? What would she gain by helping Stella?