Denise gave her a look.
Mia sighed. “Fine. Apparently I helped too much.”
I stared at her.
“You helped too much?”
“That’s what they think.”
Denise shook her head. “That’s not what I think.”
“Can someone please start at the beginning?” I demanded.
“You helped too much?”
Instead of answering, Denise pointed toward a row of wooden cabins.
“Walk with me.”
I glanced at Mia.
She looked miserable.
Whatever this was, she had known it was coming.
So I followed.
Denise pointed toward a row of wooden cabins.
***
Three years earlier, when Mia was 10, she had found the camp online while doing a school project about forests.
She came running into the kitchen with my laptop.
“Mom, look!”
There were pictures of canoes down by the lake, horses, and cabins draped in string lights.
When Mia was 10, she had found the camp online.
Others showed a ropes course and kids gathered around a campfire with marshmallows.
