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“It must have been Sawyer,” Cassie adds decisively.

“It was over Google Classroom,” I tell her. “Sawyer wasn’t part of their project. It was just Javi, Lily, and River.”

“Well then it must have been River.”

“Javi said it was Lily.”

“He must have gotten it wrong. Lily knows your family is from California.” Her voice has a tinge of annoyance to it.

“Cass, that’s not the point. She was being—” I search for the right word. I hate that I have to sugarcoat it, but no one likes to be called a racist. “Mean.”

“We’ve taught Lily to be nice to everyone.”

“All kids can be mean, Cassie. It’s part of growing up.”

Cassie crosses and uncrosses her legs as she debates how to respond. I follow her sight line over to Charles, who is standing by the bathroom with Javi and Lei. He and Cassie seem to communicate wordlessly, which is strange, given they aren’t friends. I’m distracted momentarily, nervous suddenly, at the prospect of having this conversation with Javi so close. When I refocus, Cassie has a strange expression on her face.

“Did it ever occur to you that Javi made it up?” She asks it innocently, like she hasn’t just said the worst possible thing.

“Why would he make something like that up?” I manage to say evenly, while her comment makes me want to scream. Over the years, I’ve trained myself to be patient any time I feel the frustration rising. In my twenties, with my ex, I was as quick to rage as he was. It was a terrible way to live, with broken dishes and nasty names, immediately fearing the violence that might follow. When Javi and I walked out, I swore to leave all that anger behind along with my ex. Now, at the hospital, when new mothers treat me like the help, when they demand to see the doctor after I explain that it isn’t time for another narcotic, I think whatever I want, but I smile and tell them I’ll have the doctor come right in. I still feel all the anger of years ago. Now, I know how to control it.

“Cassie,” I say very slowly, “your daughter said something mean to my son. I thought you’d want to know. This doesn’t need to be a big deal.”

“It’s not a big deal. Lily wouldn’t say that. I’m not sure why Javi would say she did, but I know my daughter.”

And I know my son.

I don’t know Cassie, I’m realizing. I don’t know Cassandra Bent at all.

“I have to get ready to go kayaking.” I stand. I assume that Cassie is going to say something to smooth this over. Instead, her attention shifts to the kitchen area, as if she’s already done with me.

I need some distance from Cassie, but our tent is right behind where she sits. I go inside, zip up the door and the window that faces her tent. The small, enclosed space immediately grows claustrophobic. I can feel her too close. We shouldn’t have come on this trip. I can’t stay here.

I find my backpack, the backpack Cassie gave me. I start shoving clothes into it, the clothes from Cassie’s line and the hiking boots she gifted me.

“What are you doing?” Javi’s kneeling at the threshold of our tent, the door now unzipped. He takes in the disarray, clothes strewn everywhere, my bag on my lap, half packed. “Mamí?”

“Pack your stuff. We’re leaving.”

He sits very still, staring at me. While he’s trying to hide it, I can see that he’s scared. I’m scaring him like I did six years ago, when we left his father in a similar fashion. I reach for him and pull his warm body to mine and kiss his head. It takes him a moment to hug me back.

“It’s nothing, mi amor. We could—why don’t we go to Legoland? We can catch the next boat, drive down tonight and stay in the Lego hotel, like you’ve always wanted. Then we’ll head to the park tomorrow?”

The Lego hotel is too expensive. That’s why we’ve never stayed there. And the park, the way they make you pay extra for everything once you’re inside, I vowed never to go there again. Right now, I’m willing to spend any amount of money to get us off this island.

“I want to go kayaking. Mamí, please.”

His voice cracks something open inside me. I hug him tighter. If we take the next boat, I’m letting Lily win. Cassie too.

“Of course, mi amor. We’ll go kayaking. Give me a minute?” Javi sits there, biting his lower lip as he decides what to do. “I just need to change. Te lo prometo.”

Javi casts me one last pleading look before he steps outside and zips the tent.

Through the fabric, I hear Cassie.

“Everything okay, Javi?” Her voice is sweet. Too sweet. I can’t tell if Cassie knows I can hear her when she asks him, “Are you having fun? We’re so glad you’re here.”

“Mamí,” Javi says, not responding to Cassie.

“Un momento,” I call as I wiggle into my bathing suit, overly aware that there’s only this thin tent blocking Cassie and all the other parents from my naked body.

Once I’ve got on the waterproof pants Cassie gave me and a windbreaker with her logo, I unzip the tent and step out. Javi’s relieved when he sees me, which makes me feel worse. If he hadn’t caught me, I would have come to my senses on my own. I may have gotten carried away for a moment, but I would have reined it in. I never would have made him leave this trip. Instead, he saw that I wanted to leave, that I am still willing to make decisions for us without consulting him.

I expect to find Cassie outside our tent, but she’s gone.

“Let’s go,” I say, putting my hand on Javi’s shoulder as we head toward the path that leads to the kayak huts. We walk away from our tent, the one Cassie gave us, and it feels like we’re walking away from something bigger. Cassie Bent will no longer be a part of our lives.