Not theirs.
Mine.
The lodge.
The transportation.
The private dining reservations.
The ski package.
Everything.
I had done it because I wanted to make sure there were no mistakes.
Now I opened my laptop.
The reservation confirmation was still in my email.
Seven nights.
Ten guests.
One primary reservation holder.
Me.
I opened the booking.
Then I saw the room assignment.
My name wasn’t there.
Instead:
Caleb and Sloan — Primary Suite.
Sloan’s parents — Guest Suite.
Sloan’s sister and husband — Guest Suite.
Children — Family Suite.
I stared at the screen.
They hadn’t simply left early.
They had planned the entire vacation without me.
And they had apparently expected me to continue paying for it.
I leaned back in my chair.
Then I remembered something.
Three weeks earlier, Sloan had asked me a strange question.
“Mom, when you make the reservation, can you put Caleb as the primary guest?”
I’d said no.
She’d laughed.
“Just in case something happens with your card.”
At the time, I hadn’t thought much about it.
Now I understood.
I opened the reservation management page.
Three options appeared.
Modify.
Transfer.
Cancel.
My finger hovered over the screen.
Then I clicked Cancel.
A warning appeared.
Cancellation would trigger a refund according to the property’s policy.
