There were murmurs of agreement, but there were also whispers of concern. The loudest being Summer, who immediately turned to her mother and said, “What?”

“Now, I know what you’re thinking,” Taured had said. “We will still share all of our mealtimes and free times together,” he explained to the confused faces. “Kids’ Camp is an exciting time for your children’s education and your growth as individuals. Each parent and child team will have time together and time apart.” He looked directly at Lorraine when he said this.

He’d taken a long time to drag his eyes away from her before saying, “As some of you have expressed, now that our numbers are growing, we need a more scheduled way of life. We’re going to try this and see if it works. If not, we’ll adapt to what’s best for the group.” That had seemed to soothe the room.

They’d been here through the summer, their life merging with this place: its people, its chores and its quirks. For the most part, it had felt like a vacation to thirteen-year-old Summer, who delighted in her farm chores and enjoyed the overall community bustle of mealtimes and evenings. But as she’d listened to Taured’s words, she’d known things were about to change, and she had a sick feeling. Her mother had the uncanny ability to look her in the eyes and calm her down, and she was doing it now, slow and steady, from her own bed, where she sat propped against the wall, her legs hanging over the side of the bed.

“I’ll be mere yards away. I hardly think that constitutes sleeping away from me.”

“It’s a different building.”

Mama’s words made sense, but Summer didn’t care. Adults lied all the time: they told you things were fine when they weren’t, and they acted like they themselves were fine when they weren’t.

“Look, this is the way they do school here. We said we’d stay and try this out. You and I both agreed, remember?” Mama’s eyes were large as she spoke, and Summer knew what she was thinking because she’d said it a hundred times: if this didn’t work out, they’d have to go live with her parents. Summer’s grandparents sounded pretty awful. They’d made her mother earn her dinner when she was little by how many prayers she said in a day. And she had to go to church five days a week, no matter what. They didn’t believe in music, or television, or card games, or even holidays, because those things were evil distractions.

“Grandpa and Grandma would let us sleep in the same room.” She said this with finality, and she knew it would hurt her mother. Suggesting she’d rather be at the place her mother hated the most was her lowest blow yet.