By nine that night, my phone would not stop ringing. Mom called first, then Dad, then Delaney, whose voice cracked with panic. “The rental agency says our reservation is gone!” she shrieked. “Garrett’s family is already packing!” I let it ring. Then a text from my father arrived: “Hannah, please call me. There is something your mother has not told you, and you need to hear it before you make any more decisions.”

I called him back from the porch while Josie slept upstairs. Dad’s voice was quiet and ashamed. “Your mother told Delaney you would always pay,” he said. “She even promised Garrett’s parents we owned that lake house.” I closed my eyes. Then the doorbell rang, and through the window I saw Delaney on my steps, mascara streaked, holding a manila folder against her chest with shaking hands.