As we walked past the pool, the other children continued their games, oblivious to the tension that had filled the air. I could only hope that they were too young to understand or that they hadn’t noticed Timmy’s exclusion.

We gathered his things quickly, and as we left, I glanced back at Betsy. Her expression was unreadable, a mask of civility that left me feeling hollow.

The drive home was quiet but comforting. Timmy seemed to relax as we got further from the estate, his small hand still clutching mine.

“Mom,” he finally said, breaking the silence, “I’m glad you came to get me.”