Marissa frowned. “She made it back in time but didn’t come? What did you say to piss her off?” She clamped her lips together at her slip of inappropriate words.

Wes let it slide. He had in fact said some hurtful things. “I may have suggested that it was her fault. For putting you at risk online like that.” His chest heaved as he sighed. “Sarah just doesn’t have kids, so she doesn’t get it.”

Marissa was looking at him like he was the bad guy. She folded her little arms across her chest and glared at him. “You blamed Sarah?”

He nodded. “There was no parental controls or anything…”

“Dad, it’s the internet. It’s not safe even if you do everything right.”

“That’s why I didn’t like you using it,” he said. This incident should be illustrating his point perfectly.

“It was just pictures, Dad, and I would have talked to you about it, but I knew this was how you’d react. I knew you’d take this one example of the internet being evil and use it to stop me from making new apps.”

“Marissa, there are predators online…”

“There are predators everywhere,” she said, touching his shoulder. “This wasn’t Sarah’s fault. Blaming her wasn’t the right thing to do.”

Marissa’s expression said she was clearly disappointed in him as she disappeared back inside the changing room and slammed the door.

Fantastic. Now his daughter was mad at him. And even worse: she was right.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

The next morning, Sarah hurried down the boardwalk toward Harrison’s Blown Glass, the journal tucked beneath her arm.

The door to the shop was locked. Checking the hours sign, she saw that it opened at ten. It was only nine thirty, and she couldn’t wait. Lia would be losing her mind by now wondering where she was. She’d snuck out when she knew the woman was in the shower. Reunion guests were self-entertaining that day, but the local family and friends would be arriving in five hours for the event, and the caterers would be there to set up in three.

She contemplated knocking, but she wasn’t sure what she would even say to him. She just knew that the journal didn’t belong anywhere else. It was filled with letters to Jack, for Jack.

She walked around the side of the building, noticing a second entrance to his living area. She clutched the journal tight to prevent the news clippings and pictures from falling free.

This was the right thing. She wouldn’t second-guess the decision. This journal held her grandmother’s deepest secrets that had nothing to do with their family. No one else deserved to have this book except for Jack.

And it would be up to him if he decided to read it or leave the past in the past.