I picked up Mia.
Mom blocked the doorway.
“Emma, you cannot seriously keep her away from me over one mistake.”
I looked at her.
“A mistake is forgetting the towels.”
Her jaw tightened.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes.
I finally do.”
I stepped around her.
Back at the rental house, I packed our things.
Mia sat on the bed wrapped in a towel, eating crackers while I checked her breathing again.
Her inhaler was returned after Tyler retrieved the backpack from his truck.
He stood in the bedroom doorway holding it like evidence.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
I took the bag.
“You should be.”
He nodded.
“I should have called you.”
“Yes.”
“I should have brought her back the second she asked.”
“Yes.”
He looked down.
“I believed Mom.”
I zipped Mia’s suitcase.
“That explains your first decision.
It doesn’t excuse the decisions after that.”
He flinched but did not argue.
That mattered more than an elaborate apology would have.
Paul tried next.
He told me Linda was upset, that the vacation had become emotional, that everyone should sleep before making permanent decisions.
I kept packing.
“She told me my daughter was alone beside the ocean when she knew Tyler had taken her.”
Paul rubbed his forehead.
“I know.”
“She watched me call 911.”
“I know.”
“She watched me run onto the beach believing Mia could be drowning, lost, or taken by a stranger.”
His hand dropped.
“I know.”
“Then there is nothing for me to sleep on.”
Downstairs, Linda was crying now.
Not quietly.
She wanted the whole house to hear.
When I carried our bags toward the front door, she stood in the hallway beneath the wooden sign that said Saltwater Heals Everything.
Her arms were folded.
“So this is it?”
“For this trip, yes.”
“You are taking my granddaughter away because I made one bad judgment.”
I set the suitcase down.
“No.
I am taking my daughter home because you planned something behind my back, lied about where she was, and then blamed me for reacting to the lie you created.”
Linda’s eyes filled again.
“I love Mia.”
“I believe you.”
That surprised her.
