I turned to the room and laid it out plainly, without heat.

I told them I had paid for every flight, every suite, this room, the trio, the wine package Mildred had insisted on so they wouldn’t “look cheap” in front of her friends.

I told them I had done it because Lindsay swore to me this was one family.

And then I told them what they had done with that: seated two children behind a pillar and informed them, to their faces, that they didn’t belong.

That was when Grover’s phone began to buzz against the tablecloth.

Once.