‘Here it is!’ Carlita, whose designated bag hook was stationed next to mine, wrenched the doll from inside my bag and waved it above her head. ‘Look! Maxine has a brown doll! Look at it! It’s so ugly!’

The other kids unpacking their bags in the cloakroom turned to look. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the exclamation of disgust.

Susana, another of the girls in my class, rescued the doll from Carlita. ‘Of course it’s brown,’ she said, looking it over. ‘It’s the one that was grown especially for her. It’s her kid.’

‘I’ve never seen a brown one before,’ another girl said. ‘Pass it over here!’

[…]

‘It’s ugly,’ Carlita repeated.

‘Go away, Carlita,” Susana said firmly.