weeks.

Theo can sit on a blanket if he wants to sulk.”

“He’s in pain.”

“He’s thirteen.

At thirteen, I was hauling lumber with my father.

If he can whine, he can work.”

The line landed like a slap.

Theo flinched.

Celeste reached for her tea.

“Don’t reward the performance, Mara.

He learned this from you.”

There it was again.

The old spell.

Make me the problem, and I would spend all my energy trying to prove I was reasonable.

“He is not performing,” I said.

April lifted both hands.

“Nobody is saying he’s not uncomfortable.

We’re saying the entire weekend doesn’t need to become a hospital drama because Theo has a cramp.”

“It’s not a cramp,” Theo whispered.

The older cousin made a trumpet sound under his breath.

I stood so quickly my chair scraped the floor.

“Enough.”

For one second, everyone looked surprised.

Then Celeste’s face cooled.

“Fine.

Take him if you must.

But don’t expect us to cancel a family day because you refuse to teach resilience.”

I should have left.

That sentence has lived inside me ever since.

I should have left then.

I should have put Theo in the car and driven straight to the hospital.

I should have let them call me dramatic from the rearview mirror.

Instead, I thought I could manage the exit gently.

I thought I could gather our things, avoid a fight, protect Theo from the explosion.

I told myself ten minutes would not matter.

Ten minutes became thirty because Grant insisted the coolers still had to be carried to the dock, and Celeste blocked me with questions about whether I was taking the car keys she needed later, and April asked loudly whether Theo needed a velvet cushion for the ride.

On the dock, Grant shoved a cooler handle toward Theo.

“Carry something light,” he said.

The cooler was not light.

Theo looked at me.

He did not ask for help.

He had been trained too thoroughly by then.

His eyes simply moved from the cooler to my face, and in them I saw a question I had forced him to ask silently too many times.

Will you choose me now?

I took the cooler from his hand.

“He’s not carrying anything.”

Grant snorted.

“This is why boys get soft.”

“Then let him be soft,” I said.

“At least soft things can still feel.”

The words surprised even me.

Nolan laughed.

“Wow.

Inspirational.

Can we go before the tide changes?”

I put Theo’s backpack over my shoulder, took his hand, and started toward the parking area.

We made it as far as the marina shop because he said he needed to sit.

I was buying ice for the drive when he collapsed.

The ambulance arrived with its lights spinning against the shop windows.

A paramedic asked Theo questions while another checked his pulse and pressed gently on his abdomen.

Theo cried out then, a raw sound that made the clerk turn away.

Celeste’s mouth tightened.

“Is all this necessary?”

The paramedic looked at her once.

“Yes.”

It was the first sensible answer anyone had given all weekend.

I rode in the ambulance.

Theo held my hand the whole way, his fingers cold and damp.

When he apologized again, I bent close to his ear.

“Listen to me.

You never