My stepmother told me I wasn’t welcome at “their” luxury resort—so I opened my laptop and quietly revoked their entire access.

At 2:18 p.m., Paige’s card failed outside the spa locker room.

At 2:21, Sloane’s massage ended when the therapist’s tablet flagged the treatment as unpaid.

At 2:26, Beatrice’s elevator access to the presidential villa cut out while she stood in a robe holding a glass of cucumber water.

At 2:31, my father called.

I let it ring twice.

Then I answered.

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