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Chapter Eight

Friday afternoon, 5:15 p.m., eight and three-quarters hours earlier

Charles, the stay-at-home dad

I keep my hand fixed on Lei’s shoulder for the duration of the walk back to camp. My heart is pounding in my temples as my brain rescreens what’s just happened, shot for shot until it freeze-frames on Sofía’s startled face.

When Sofía retreated around the side of the building, I’d zipped up my pants and combed my fingers through my hair, which was matted from the building’s textured facade. My mind was unnervingly blank, shock disguised as calm.

For her part, Cassie paced, muttering, “It’s okay. Sofía would never say anything. It’s all going to be fine.”

“Cass?”

She offered me a soft, infantilizing smile. “I’ll sort it out.”

I caught her wrist before she sped away. The diamond bracelet she always wears slipped over my fingers, binding me to her. We stared at it. I unthreaded my hand from under it and pulled away.

“I think we should stop.”

Cassie looked at me, confused. “Sofía would never say anything.”

“It’s not that. Don’t you see how fucked up this is, sneaking off at our kids’ camping trip?”

“You didn’t seem to mind about two minutes ago.”

“Cass—”

“What, you’ve suddenly got a conscience?” Her voice was alarmingly cold.

“I’ve actually been thinking we should end this for a while.”

“Oh, have you now? Is that why you asked me to meet you here? What, you wanted one last blow job before you took the moral high ground?”

I considered reaching for her arm again but resisted. “Neither of us is trying to implode our lives here. Let’s count ourselves lucky, and talk to Sofía?”

“I’ll talk to her.” Cassie crossed her arms protectively across her chest. “She’s my friend.”

I wasn’t certain of that, not after Sofía doused Lily, not after she intercepted my son walking in on us. I don’t know what happened between her and Cassie. That kindness, though, stopping Lei from finding us—it sure as hell wasn’t for Cassie’s benefit. It wasn’t for mine either.

Then Cassie did something I could never have imagined, not from her, anyway. She rested her face in her hands and started to cry.

“Cass.” I reached out toward her shoulder, a pervading sense of shame consuming me. Shame over what I’d done. Shame that I couldn’t find a way to end it without hurting her. Shame that, at some level, I didn’t think she was capable of getting hurt. It was part of her allure. Turns out, Cassie Bent is human like the rest of us.

“Don’t touch me,” she spat. When her hands fell from her face, her eyes, red and glassy with tears, made her seem feral and capable of anything. “If you ever touch me again—”

With that, she stormed off, leaving me confused and alarmingly afraid. Did Cassie Bent just threaten me? I watched her frame grow smaller in the distance, certain I had no idea what she was thinking. And worse, I had no idea what she was capable of.

When Lei and I arrive back at camp, everything is unsettlingly normal. There’s clearly an air of gossip. Several moms are huddled together, whispering, although they barely register me and Lei when we arrive. Ray blows me a kiss from the kitchen. Sofía and Javi are still on the path behind us, taking their sweet time, so there’s zero chance she could have told anyone. I don’t spot Cassie anywhere. Dave’s holding court with a few of the other dads, manspreading in camping chairs as they drink beer. I spin in a circle, feeling the dizziness rise like bile, fear mounting like a fever, even as everything around me remains horribly, obstinately normal. My eyes snag on Brady, seated alone at one of the picnic tables near the kitchen area. He twists a bottle of beer between his hands. We weren’t trying to listen when he called Mona. But we kept listening. I kept listening. I judged Cassie for enjoying it. At some level, I did too. At some level, I’m as terrible as she is.

Brady stands, looking alarmed as I feel my knees hit the cold, hard ground and my lungs gasp for air.

“C!” I hear Ray shout. It’s muffled by the pounding in my ears. I lean forward, pressing my hands into my thighs as I try to breathe. Lei’s at my side, shouting. It sounds like ambient noise, buried by the blood flooding my ear canals. The pain in my chest is daggerlike. My heart has stopped. I can feel it, heavy and lifeless in my chest. It’s not a panic attack. This is the real thing. I fall to my side, curled into a ball, vaguely aware of Ray’s hand gripping my shoulder, the shadow he casts over me.

I stay curled in a ball, failing to catch my breath. A hand rests on my back, then two fingers on my neck before my body’s pulled off the cold, hard earth. Ray’s now a few feet from me, standing with Kai against him. Lei clutches his arm. The man who has just helped me sit up asks me a series of questions about the pain that I manage to grunt answers to.

“Just a good old-fashioned panic attack,” he says as he offers me what’s meant to be a reassuring pat on the back. “Have you been under undue stress lately?”

My eyes dart between him and Ray, our boys, who all stare expectantly at me.