My Sister Texted That 47 People Were Coming to My Beach House for Four Days and Told Me to Stock the Fridge

my approval. No exceptions.

The woman on the phone asked if I was expecting a problem.

I looked at Milo, now awake, eating cereal cross-legged on the couch while Ethan searched for her missing sneaker.

“Yes,” I said. “A large one.”

By noon, Paige had texted three more times.

You better be joking.

Mom says don’t start drama.

We already rented the vans.

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