The afternoon sun hung high over Nantucket, and at the rental house, the girls were in hell. Cleaning their biohazard of a pool and figuring out how to salvage what was left of their rental boat had turned their summer escape into a full-blown disaster recovery mission.

Kimberly, wearing rubber gloves and holding a pool skimmer, sighed dramatically. "This is not what I envisioned when I booked this trip."

Whitney, holding a bottle of extra-strength chlorine, nodded. "Yeah, I was thinking more 'floating with a cocktail,' not 'scrubbing fecal matter out of a pool' like a crime scene cleanup crew."

Bela shuddered. "I will never emotionally recover from this."

Leighton, standing by with a clipboard like a disgruntled project manager, sighed. "Less complaining, more scrubbing."

Kimberly turned to her, eyes narrowing. "Leighton, you are literally not doing anything."

Leighton shrugged. "Delegation is a skill."

Meanwhile, at the Winbury estate, Thomas Winbury was completely unaware that his night of unhinged pettiness was about to backfire spectacularly.

Upstairs in the master bedroom, Abby Winbury sat cross-legged on the bed, scrolling through her phone while Thomas paced around, looking far too nervous for someone who had just taken part in the most deranged act of revenge in Nantucket history.

Abby wrinkled her nose. "Do you smell that?"

Thomas froze mid-step. "Smell what?"

Abby sniffed the air, her face immediately twisting in disgust. "It smells like… actual sewage."

Thomas swallowed hard. "No, it doesn't."

Abby looked up from her phone, suspicious. "It does, though." She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why do you smell like it?"

Thomas clenched his fists. "I don't."

Abby's eyes drifted to his hands.

Blood.

Not a lot—just small smudges, like he had nicked himself on something sharp.

Her gaze drifted further, down to his khakis, which were questionably stained.

Abby stared. "Thomas."

He forced a tight smile. "Yeah?"

She pointed. "Why do you have blood on your hands and poop on your pants?"

Thomas froze like a deer in headlights.

Abby sat up, grinning now, because she could tell—he was about to lie.

He cleared his throat. "I… tripped."

Abby's grin widened. "Oh?"

Thomas nodded. "Yeah. In the… yard."

Abby laughed. "So you're telling me you tripped, bled, and somehow landed in actual feces?"

Thomas nodded way too quickly. "Yes. Exactly."

Abby stared at him for a long moment before shaking her head. "You are so bad at lying."

Thomas rolled his eyes and muttered, "I'm taking a shower."

Abby giggled to herself as he rushed into the bathroom.

The moment the door clicked shut, she pulled out her phone.

Abby: Amelia. Get up here right now.

Within minutes, Amelia Sacks, Benji's fiancée, entered the bedroom, looking concerned. "What's going on?"

Abby gestured dramatically to the hamper. "I need you to smell something."

Amelia blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"

Abby nodded. "It's important."

Amelia hesitated before stepping forward and—against her better judgment—sniffed.

She gagged immediately. "OH MY GOD, ABBY."

Abby wheezed with laughter. "I told you! It's poop!"

Amelia stumbled back, covering her nose. "Why does Thomas have poop-stained pants in the hamper?!"

Abby smirked. "I asked him, and guess what he said? That he tripped."

Amelia gasped. "Oh, that's a terrible lie."

Abby nodded. "Exactly. Which means? He did something incredibly stupid."

The shower turned off in the bathroom.

Moments later, a very clean but still guilty-looking Thomas stepped out in fresh clothes, immediately pausing when he saw both Abby and Amelia waiting for him like a courtroom jury.

His eyes narrowed. "What are you doing?"

Amelia pointed at the hamper. "Thomas, what did you do?"

Thomas's jaw tightened. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Abby cackled. "Thomas, please, you smell like you wrestled a raccoon in a dumpster."

Amelia crossed her arms. "Just tell us."

Thomas exhaled deeply, running a hand through his hair before muttering, "Fine. I may have… done something."

Abby's eyebrows shot up. "Did something?"

Amelia narrowed her eyes. "Define something."

Thomas hesitated, then finally admitted, "I might have… gotten revenge on the girls."

Silence.

Abby's jaw dropped. "Wait. Wait, wait, wait. What kind of revenge?"

Thomas exhaled, rubbing his temples. "I may have… filled their pool with… certain substances."

Amelia's soul left her body. "OH MY GOD."

Abby wheezed. "THOMAS. YOU POOPED IN THEIR POOL?"

Thomas threw his hands up. "NOT ME PERSONALLY."

Amelia was horrified. "You hired someone?!"

Thomas groaned. "That's not the point—"

Abby lost it, falling back on the bed in full hysterics. "You destroyed their summer vacation because you're mad?!"

Thomas muttered, "They ruined my life first."

Amelia stared at him in disbelief. "Thomas, you know they called the police, right?"

Thomas froze. "They what?"

Abby, still laughing, nodded. "Oh, they absolutely called the cops. It's all over TikTok."

Amelia shook her head. "And now, thanks to you, I feel bad for them."

Thomas's eye twitched. "You feel bad for them?"

Abby grinned. "Oh, fully."

Amelia sighed. "Thomas, this was… next-level insane."

Thomas scowled. "It was deserved."

Abby shook her head. "No, it was pathetic."

Amelia crossed her arms. "And now, if they find out the full story? Oh, they will destroy you."

Thomas paused, then muttered, "I hate this family."

Abby laughed. "And yet, you're the embarrassment in it."