“I’m serious. Listen, I was ready to abandon my family and my entire life, just like he ditched Mom. Just like he ditched me all those years ago. I left my family when they needed me the most. When I realized I didn’t have a place with my dad either, I came back like the prodigal son,” he shakes his head. “But I was still so angry with Grandpa, too. I had this plan that I’d get myself expelled from school, so I’d have no choice but to accept my life at Sugar once and for all...”

I’m so angry on his behalf, I could scream.

He looks at me, suddenly anxious. “Do you think Grandpa shouldn’t have accepted me back?” he asks. “I do.”

A stubborn tear rolls down my cheek. “Don’t say that!”

“Why not? I turned my back on him, only to come back two weeks later like nothing had happened. I think Grandpa should have kept the door locked.”

“You didn’t turn your back on your grandfather. You had nowhere to go when he wouldn’t listen to you.”

“You don’t get it.” Pedro’s eyes glisten with tears. “Grandpa taught me everything I know. I’m a baker because of him. And that’s how I repay him? How ungrateful am I?”

I grab his hand so he’ll see I’m right here with him. That he’s not alone.

“You’re not ungrateful,” I say, fighting tears of my own.

“What am I going to do?” his voice cracks with the first sob. “How am I going to go home tonight? He doesn’t want me. He told me to go back to my father. You heard him—”

It’s like Seu Romário’s words are finally registering in Pedro’s mind, and he’s starting to panic. I pass an arm around his shoulders, and Pedro stops crying just as quickly, wiping his eyes with his sleeve, like he doesn’t want to cry in front of me.

“I’m okay now,” he says, laughing a little. “I swear I am.”

It worries me to see him shut off his feelings so quickly.

Pedro leans back on the sand, looking up at the stars. I lie down next to him. It’s a rare clear June night. Not one cloud in the sky. We stay like this until it starts to get a little cold. Only the lights from the calçadão, where joggers and families pushing strollers go up and down, and the tall buildings facing the beach cast any glow on us.

“Thank you for running away with me for a few hours,” he says, breaking the silence.

I turn my head to look at him.

And I realize he’s been staring at me.