The five children were standing on the curb when I pulled into the vacation rental parking lot.
At first, my brain refused to understand what my eyes were seeing.
“Aunt Emily,” she gasped. “Mom said you’d be here soon.”
I stepped out of my car and looked past her.
Noah, seven, stood by a hard-shell suitcase with his dinosaur backpack pressed to his chest.
The twins, Ava and Sophie, were sitting on one suitcase together, both red-faced and sticky from heat.
Caleb, who was only three, stood barefoot on the curb, hugging a stuffed rabbit with one ear missing.
The sight of his bare feet did something to me.
Not anger at first.
Worse than anger.
A clear, cold understanding that no normal explanation was coming.
“Where is your mom?” I asked.
Maddie wiped her nose with her sleeve.
“She said she and Uncle Travis had to go to the airport.”
I stared at her.
“What airport?”
Maddie looked confused, like grown-ups were supposed to know these things.
“For Hawaii. She said you promised.”
“Promised what?”
“To take us.”
My phone buzzed in my hand before I could answer.
It was an email from Lauren.
The subject line said Family Trip Update.
That was Lauren all over.
She could drop a bomb and label it like a calendar reminder.
I opened it with Maddie still holding the hem of my shirt.
Emily, don’t be dramatic.
Travis and I desperately need this Hawaii trip.
The kids were too expensive to bring, and you already said you had vacation days.
They have clothes, snacks, and their allergy meds in the blue bag.
We’ll be back in ten days.
Do not call Mom.
Do not make this a scene.
You owe me after everything I’ve done for you.
I read it once.
Then I read it again because some part of me needed the words to rearrange into something less insane.
They did not.
Ten days.
Five children.
No adult.
No shoes on Caleb.
No Lauren.
No Travis.
