Juliette snatched the black card from Dan’s hand before Sarah could even reach for it.

“Give me that,” Juliette said, tossing the card onto the wooden patio table. “If Sarah won’t take it, I will. We are not spending our holiday eating dry hot dogs and potato chips.”

“Mom, put it down,” Sarah said, her voice tight.

“I will not,” Juliette declared.

She picked up her heavy leather handbag from the wicker chair.

“Dan, your phone can wait. Go start the car.”

Dan didn’t move.

He was staring at the text message on his screen, his jaw slightly slack.

“The account is locked,” Dan said.

“What do you mean, locked?” Juliette asked, her brow furrowing. “You have a seventy-thousand-dollar limit on that card.”

“It says ‘administrative hold,'” Dan said.

He turned the screen toward me, his hand shaking slightly.

“Annie, did you do this?”

I took another sip of my tap water.

The condensation ran down the glass and dripped onto my wrist, cold and sharp.

“I did,” I said, setting the glass back down on the coaster.

“Why?” Dan asked.