My step-mother called to say, “You’re banned from the family beach house forever!

In the reflection of the glass, the image of the beach house seemed to overlay the city skyline. The wide porch. The pale railing worn smooth by countless hands. The endless stretch of the Atlantic Ocean glimmering beyond the dunes.

My mother’s laughter drifted through my memory like a soft, warm breeze.
“Look at that wave, Rebecca. I swear it is bigger than you were when you were five.”

I blinked and pulled myself back to the present.

“The house is not yours to ban me from,” I said quietly.

“Oh but it is,” Diana shot back instantly. “Your father signed it over to me last month. It belongs to me now and I do not want you anywhere near it.”