“Owen, stop this. We have a legal agreement.”
“Enjoy the beach while you can, Cara,” he said.
The sound of the phone line going dead as Owen disconnects.
I slid my phone into my pocket and focused on the heavy dresser drawers. The wood smelled of cedar and lavender spray, a scent that did not match the sour feeling in my chest.
Emma was already sitting on the carpet by the sliding glass door, sorting her plastic sea creatures into a neat row. She twirled a single strand of hair behind her left ear, her thumb hooked in her mouth.
“Do you think the dolphins are awake, Mom?” Emma asked.
“They are always awake, sweetie,” I said. “They just take turns sleeping with one eye open.”
I pulled a stack of her t-shirts from our suitcase and carried them to the low white dresser. My hand brushed against the small black folder I had tucked into the side pocket of the bag.
