I slid the letter into my pocket and handed Charlotte a coffee. "Looks like we're in the clear."
She nodded, ponytail swaying, and took a sip. "Good. Let's get ready. We leave this morning."
Two suitcases gaped open on the floor, and Charlotte moved between them, folding bikinis with barely-there fabric, shorts, and a sundress in a sharp teal that made her eyes blaze.
I packed T-shirts, sandals, a light jacket, chargers, sunscreen, sunglasses.
"Beach towels?" she asked.
"Got them," I said, stuffing two into the side pocket.
She held up a wide sun hat, cream with a black ribbon. "Bringing it."
"Smart," I said.
My phone buzzed—Sam. I put him on speaker.
"We're almost ready," he said. "Mia's on crutches and feeling good."
"Perfect. We're out in an hour."
