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.
Five small bodies.
Five suitcases.
One blue bag slumped between them.
The rental office sat behind them with its glass door propped open, letting out a cold puff of air every time a guest walked in or out.
The afternoon smelled like hot asphalt, saltwater, sunscreen, and somebody’s French fries from the snack stand across the road.
I remember the sound of a luggage tag scraping against the curb.
I remember thinking Lauren must be inside.
My sister always liked making other people wait.
She liked appearing at the last possible second with sunglasses on her head and a coffee in her hand, acting like everyone else had misunderstood the time.
So for one second, I thought she had gone inside to check in.
Then Maddie saw my car.
She ran to me so fast her little sandals slapped the pavement.
Her face was swollen from crying.
“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.
