“She could have waited until I got back at four.”

Linda glared at me, her eyes narrowing to slits.

“You don’t keep track of my schedule, Camila.”

“Ethan,” Richard said, his quiet voice cutting through the rising tension.

“Where are the keys right now?”

“She has them in her pocket,” Ethan said, turning to face Linda.

“I’m not handing over car access to someone who acts hysterical in front of my neighbors,” Linda declared, taking a step back toward the screen door.

“Give her the keys, Linda,” Richard said.