Brian, my son, and Marissa, his wife, were supposed to be in Florida. They’d told everyone they were taking Mason to Disney World for his tenth birthday.

They said Lily had come down with a little cold, nothing serious, and Marissa’s sister was keeping her for two nights so Mason wouldn’t have to miss the trip.

I remember not liking it when Brian told me. I remember asking why they’d split the children up for a birthday trip.

Brian had laughed in that tired, impatient way he’d developed over the last few years. “Dad, don’t make this a thing. Lily doesn’t even like rides.”

Marissa had added, “She needs rest. Mason deserves one weekend that isn’t all about Lily.”

That sentence bothered me. I didn’t know then how much it should have scared me.