PART 2
Something hot rushed through me.
“Who moved you?” I asked.
Grandma looked toward a young resort attendant standing nearby.
“The attendant brought the chair,” she said quietly.
The young man looked miserable. He could not have been more than nineteen. His face was sunburned, and he kept twisting a towel in his hands like he wished he could disappear.
Grandma continued, her voice small.
“I tried to show him my reservation bracelet, but that woman said I was confused. She said I probably found it somewhere.”
My daughter Nora gasped behind me.
Grandma swallowed.
“Then she told her friends I was probably waiting for a family that had forgotten me. They laughed.”
For one moment, all I could hear was the ocean.
Then I crouched in front of Grandma.
“Stay here with the kids.”
Her eyes searched my face.
“Don’t get arrested on my birthday.”
“I’ll do my best.”
I started toward the cabana, but halfway there, I slowed down.
The woman had her phone raised, filming herself. Her smile was bright, fake, and meant for strangers online.
“Perfect luxury beach day,” she said into the camera. “Private cabana, ocean view, full service — exactly the reset I needed.”
One of her friends laughed.
“Get the drink in frame.”
The woman lifted her cocktail and smiled wider.
But the second the phone lowered, her smile disappeared. She checked the screen, frowned, adjusted her angle, and said, “No, get more of the cabana. It needs to look private. I can’t lose this sponsor.”
That was when I understood.
The cabana was not a place for her to rest.
It was a set.
And my grandmother, sitting quietly in the shade with her walker beside her, had not fit the picture.
I stopped beside the attendant first.
“Did you move my grandmother?”
He flinched.
“I brought the chair,” he admitted. “Her friends moved the bags. I should have stopped them. She said she was working with the resort and that I’d be fired if I interfered with her content. She said your grandmother had wandered into the wrong cabana.”
I looked at him.
“You should have checked the bracelet.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You should have called a manager.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
His face turned red.
I nodded once, then turned to the woman.
“You’re sitting in my grandmother’s cabana.”
She lowered her phone slightly and looked annoyed.
“Can I help you?”
“Yes,” I said calmly. “You can get out of my grandmother’s cabana.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Oh my God. Is this about that old lady? She was barely using it.”
My stomach tightened.
“You had an elderly woman moved into direct sun.”
She gave a careless laugh.
“We only needed it for a few clips. I already tagged the resort. Honestly, they should be thrilled.”
“My grandmother paid for this cabana.”
“I’m not discussing this in front of everyone.”
I glanced at her phone.
“You already did.”
Then I turned to the attendant.
“Please get the manager.”
The manager arrived quickly. She listened while I explained everything: the reservation, the bracelet, the bags, and my grandmother being moved into the sun.
Before the woman could interrupt, I asked, “Can you verify whether the resort has any partnership with her?”
The manager radioed the front desk.
Then she looked back at the woman.
“We have no partnership with you.”
The woman’s face tightened.
“I tagged you.”
“That is not a partnership,” the manager said firmly
