The reception lounge feels cool, with a light citrus scent in the air. Plants climb the stone walls, and preserved moss panels soften sections of the ceiling. It feels like a forest recreated indoors.
Soft instrumental music plays from hidden speakers.
Staff in white T-shirts and blue jeans move smoothly among the guests as they arrive, handing out refreshments: orange juice for the kids and champagne for the adults. There are not many of us at this time.
I see just two other teenage girls comparing something on their phones, and a boy in designer sneakers, standing next to a man in a dark suit and sunglasses: his accompanying adult, I’m guessing.
Two more boys who must already be staying here walk through the hall in tennis whites, carrying rackets. Their laughter bounces off the walls before they slip through a pair of glass doors at the far end.
I notice Sadie staring at those doors a little too long but say nothing.
I take a sip of the champagne and check my watch just as a very blonde woman in her forties walks through the shiny elevator doors. Her hair is styled in a perfectly sleek ponytail, and she’s wearing a dark gray suit with a breast pocket over a white silk blouse.
With a bright smile, she approaches the two girls first and gives each a gentle hug.
“Where’s Mandy?” one of the girls, a redhead with freckles, asks and the woman mentions something about an extended leave of absence.
They must be regulars.
The girl must have been talking about Mandy Potter, the camp director. I saw her photo on the camp’s website, positioned next to the portrait of her late mother, Erin Potter, who started this place before investors transformed it from a traditional youth camp to a luxury one.
I didn’t see this woman on the website. Aside from Mandy and Erin Potter, no other employees were listed.
My handbag vibrates, but I ignore it. It stops only for it to vibrate again almost immediately, persistent. Still, I don’t make a move to answer the call. Not now.
The woman welcomes the man and his son before she comes to us, extending a hand. “Scarlett Grant, I presume? Welcome to Saltspray. We’re very happy to have you. I’m Megan Hale, the interim director.”
Her grip is firm and dry, and her eyes hold mine just long enough to make me feel welcome and important.
“Thank you. It’s beautiful here.”
“It’s meant to be. But the environment does half the work, I have to admit.” She chuckles.
Megan is quite tall with a perfect posture, and has very pale, almost translucent skin.
She turns to introduce herself to Sadie, giving her a quick hug like she did the other girls. “You can call me Megan, or Miss Hale; either is fine.” She lays a hand on Sadie’s shoulder. “Since you are new here, I want to explain how this week will work. You’ll be staying in the beach-facing rooms and your accompanying adult, Mrs. Grant, will be in the garden-facing rooms.”
“I’ll have my own room?” Sadie twists a lock of her dark hair around her finger, clearly uncomfortable.
“Not exactly. You will be with the other guests your age.”
I smile, but something inside me twists. I pull Megan aside. “I thought we were going to share a suite.”
“Mrs. Grant, our program is built around one core principle.” She gives me a reassuring smile. “We believe children grow best when they are allowed to surrender fully to the healing process and be themselves without adults around the entire time.”
“What does surrender mean, in practical terms?” I scratch the back of my head.
“It just means space. Space from the familiar and from adult mediation. Though you won’t be allowed in the children’s living quarters, you’ll see Sadie during scheduled activities and meals.”
“So I won’t be allowed to check on her at all?” I’m already thinking about being separated from Sadie. “I’m afraid this was not communicated when we signed up.”
“I apologize if there was a miscommunication. But in our experience, the boundary gets us the most positive outcomes.” She pauses. “We’ve found that a little independence helps everyone. It allows the young ones to settle without feeling observed the entire time.”
“I’m sorry but I have to ask. Why have the accompanying adult policy in place at all?”
Megan leans forward slightly. “We invite parents or guardians to join during a child’s first stay with us. It givesthem a chance to witness our program in action, tour the grounds, interact with our team. Most of them find it reassuring to experience Saltspray themselves, and to be nearby, before sending their children back on their own.”
“I see.” I’m still finding it hard to part with Sadie. This was our time to bond.
