I booked a $150,000 private island vacation for our anniversary. My husband invited his parents and his ex-girlfriend. “You can handle the cooking and cleaning while we enjoy the beach,” he commanded. His mother sneered, “It’s the least you can do for my son’s money.” I smiled, cancelled the entire booking on my phone, and left them standing at the empty pier.

Marcus’s voice, usually a smooth, practiced baritone, cracked into a shrill, panicked shriek. He was standing on the blistering hot wooden planks of the pier, his face flushing a dark, violent red in the sweltering Miami heat.

The seaplane captain, a seasoned professional who dealt with wealthy, entitled tourists daily, remained entirely impassive. He held the electronic tablet out, pointing to the stark, red lettering on the screen.