Marcus’s mother, June, who had been nothing but warm all day, finally spoke up. “Well, from what we’ve seen, your daughter has a remarkable ability to translate her education into practical skills. Her work with that corporate accountability firm was quite impressive.”

My father’s eyebrows raised slightly. “Corporate accountability? What exactly does that entail?”

The tone in his voice made my stomach tighten. We were approaching dangerous territory.

“We investigate corporate fraud and represent whistleblowers,” I explained carefully. “The firm specializes in cases where companies have misled investors or engaged in financial misconduct.”

Something flickered across my father’s face, so quickly I might have missed it if I hadn’t spent a lifetime studying his expressions for signs of approval or disapproval.

“Sounds like glorified tattling,” he said dismissively. “The business world requires discretion and loyalty.”

“I think it requires ethics and transparency,” I countered before I could stop myself.

The temperature at the table seemed to drop ten degrees. My mother’s hand flew to her necklace, her nervous tell. James shifted uncomfortably while Tyler studied his water glass with sudden fascination.

We managed to navigate through the rest of lunch with superficial conversation, but the tension remained palpable. As we prepared to leave for the afternoon graduation reception on campus, my father announced he had made dinner reservations for just our family at Laurel Heights, the most expensive restaurant in Berkeley.

“We need family time,” he stated in a tone that brooked no argument. “Seven o’clock.”

My friends looked concerned, but I assured them I would meet up with them afterward for our planned celebration. As we parted ways, Rachel squeezed my arm.

“Text us if you need an emergency rescue,” she whispered. “We can fake a crisis in ten minutes flat.”

I laughed, but part of me wondered if I might need exactly that before the night was over.

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