Jerry's brows twitched slightly, but he didn't interrupt. His friend pressed on.
"I'm not trying to disrespect her or you, Jerry. I just need to be sure. If I'm going to stand by you in this war against your father, your stepmother, and all the madness around you, I need to know she's not one of them—directly or indirectly. I want to trust her the same way you do. I want to look at her and say, 'Yes, she's part of Jerry now.' But I can't do that if there are still shadows in the corners I haven't looked at."
He paused for a breath, expecting resistance, but still hoping for understanding.
That's when Jerry finally shifted in his seat. His jaw tensed. Then he leaned forward, placing both his hands on the table between them, eyes sharp and firm.
"I understand your fear," Jerry said, his voice steady but cold. "I understand your worry. But this—this is too far."
His friend blinked, confused. "Too far?"
