The director folded her arms. “Your daughter found a lost wallet on the second day. It held nine hundred dollars, a camper’s tuition payment, and she turned it in.” I blinked. “That is the problem?” She lowered her voice. “It belonged to my own nephew. He had been stealing from cabins all week, and Lily’s honesty exposed him in front of the whole camp.”

My heart pounded. I looked at Lily, who stood beside the car twisting her braid. The director’s face had gone red. “My family helps fund this camp, and I was furious.” Then a tall man in a green polo walked up behind her and cleared his throat. “Margaret,” he said quietly. “I think you owe this woman an apology.”