Three days after giving birth, I came home with my newborn in my arms and discovered my husband had changed the passcode to our house. Then I learned he had taken his family on vacation.

Five hundred miles away, the morning sun over Cabo San Lucas was blinding, warm, and entirely disconnected from reality.

Daniel Hale stretched luxuriously on a plush white lounge chair by the infinity pool, a condensation-beaded margarita resting on the glass table beside him. The air smelled of salt water, expensive sunscreen, and grilled shrimp.

Across from him, lounging under a massive umbrella, his mother, Evelyn, dabbed at her sunglasses with a silk handkerchief.

“It is so wonderfully quiet here,” Evelyn sighed, closing her eyes with a look of deep, restorative satisfaction. “No crying baby, no stress, no dramatic sighs every time I suggest rearranging the pantry. Honestly, Daniel, taking this trip was the best parenting decision you could have made. It forces Claire to grow up.”

Daniel took a sip of his drink, feeling a faint, lingering pang of guilt—quickly washed away by the tequila. “I just think she needed a reality check, Mom. She gets too wrapped up in herself. Pregnancy makes women... I don't know, territorial. She acted like she owned the whole place.”

“Well, she didn't build it,” Evelyn sniffed, adjusting her sun hat. “Your father and I gave you the down payment for that house five years ago. Just because her name ended up on some incidental paperwork doesn’t mean she gets to dictate how our family lives.”

Daniel nodded, feeling the warm validation he always craved from his mother wash over him. He pulled out his phone, tapping the screen to check the smart home app linked to the Hillcrest property. He wanted to make sure the cleaning service he had hired hadn't let the mail pile up too high on the porch.

He tapped the app icon.

A spinning loading wheel appeared.

Connection Error, the screen flashed. Device offline.

Daniel frowned, tapping it again. Nothing.

“Stupid Wi-Fi,” he muttered under his breath, figuring the power had flickered during a local storm back home. He didn't think much of it. After all, the house was secure, the locks were changed, and Claire was presumably licking her wounds at her sister’s cramped apartment like he told her to.

Right then, his sister, Chloe, strolled over from the swim-up bar wearing oversized designer sunglasses and carrying two fresh drinks.

“Hey, big brother,” Chloe laughed, handing him a fresh lime wedge. “Did you check your phone yet? Did the peasant text you an apology yet?”

“Not yet,” Daniel said, tossing the phone onto the table. “She’s stubborn. Give her a couple of days. Once she realizes she’s locked out with no credit cards in her name—since I froze the joint secondary account to teach her fiscal discipline—she’ll fall in line.”

“Good,” Chloe said, clinking her glass against his. “She needed to learn her place. By the time we get back, the house will be clean, dinner will be on the table, and she’ll never question Mom again.”