I walked out onto the playground and immediately sensed something was wrong. Stacey* was hanging from the monkey bars with a nervous face while Kinsley* was shuffling her feet through the bark chips, her eyes searching the ground.
“Hey Kinsley, how’s it going?” I asked trying to discern what type of problem we were dealing with.
“Well, Stacey told Mary* that Mary is better friends with me than she is with her.” She said matter-of-factly. That’s when I saw her. Mary was up on the play structure, curled up in a ball face in her hands sobbing uncontrollably.