“They’re not bad people,” Stella said. Great. Now she had to redeem her parents. “They just exist with a tremendous amount of anxiety about their only daughter and her untimely demise. They had a Black, dark-skinned kid in a world that hates Black people. They can’t control school shootings or drunk drivers or hate crimes or sex trafficking. Instead, they try to control me, who I talk to, where I go, the things I do. They need me to be safe, and they’re convinced I’m safest when I’m kept under their thumbs.”

“Then why did they let you accept my invitation? I know they’re in town and they want you to interview me, but if everything you just said is true? You being here seems beyond the pale.”

“Because of the first-class ticket and chauffeur and bodyguards and extensive security detail you have in place here. I convinced them it would be the safest first solo trip that I’d ever be likely to have,” Stella said. “We’re making progress. Slowly. Painfully. But it’s still progress.”

“That still doesn’t make it right,” Jewel said. “Do you love them?”

Right for the jugular. Stella considered dancing with a lie for a split second but changed her mind. “My therapist, Joan, claims I do. She says it’s possible to love someone, deep in the irrational and unknowable parts of your heart, and not be able to stand the sight of them. I don’t particularly like my parents. There are days when I’m positive I’ve slid into full-blown hate.

“But there are times when I miss them. Not right now, but sometimes I get sad if Diane is gone too long on a research trip. Or when Lloyd is on deadline. He turns into a nocturnal writer, and we have to stop having breakfast together every morning for a couple of weeks. If anything ever happened to them, I would probably be devastated,” she said with what she hoped was nonchalance. “I figure if one part of what Joan said is true, the other could be too.”

Jewel laughed softly. “I think your therapist is right.”

“You don’t know that.” Stella sniffed, looking away. “It could be Stockholm syndrome. I’m still deciding.” She turned back to Jewel. “Your turn. I demand secrets of equal value.”

“Later,” she said, gesturing with her chin. They’d made it back to the Tea & Croquet lunch party. “I think this is the end of our first date.”

“You gotta give me something. That’s only fair,” Stella said.

Jewel sighed as she picked up her mallet again. “One. You may ask one question for now.”