Dad stood over my table demanding answers, but the answers were already stitched into the wristbands. Gold on my arm. Basic blue on theirs. I had not stolen anything or broken any rule. Every reservation had been booked under my name, paid with my card, tied to my travel account, which meant every upgrade was mine to keep and every extra was mine to cancel. So I had kept the penthouse and released everything I had generously added on top for people who decided I was too much family to invite and not enough family to thank.

“You canceled the dining package,” Bianca said slowly, the realization spreading across her face. “And the drinks. And the excursions.” I nodded. “Jamaica tomorrow,” I said pleasantly. “I hear the beach is beautiful. You’ll be able to see it from the ship.” That was the moment the full shape of what they had done to themselves finally landed on all three of them.