The final straw came at a bonfire. The whole gang was there: Reef, Lo, Emma, and Brodie’s crew. Summer, now in board shorts and a rash guard, was trying to teach her mom to roast a marshmallow. Mrs. Hart held the stick like a scalpel.
Across the fire, Fin was wearing one of Summer’s old cashmere sweaters (over her wetsuit) and was explaining the concept of “compound interest” to Brodie, who looked adorably confused. summer hart momswap
“This is inefficient,” she muttered. The final straw came at a bonfire
Fin smirked. “You got a better deal. You got a second mom who doesn’t care if you fail. And I got one who makes sure I never settle for less than I’m worth.” “This is inefficient,” she muttered
Meanwhile, Fin was drowning in the Hart mansion. The guest room was a sterile white cube. Mrs. Hart left her a laminated “House Etiquette” card. Dinner was a silent, three-hour affair with seven forks. When Fin tried to talk about surfing, Mrs. Hart held up a hand.