My Teacher Threw My Report About My Marine Dad’s Dog in the Trash and Made Me Apologize—Then Scout Walked Into Our Classroom

“I wrote that Scout is five.”

“Correct.”

“I wrote about the pale mark above his ear.”

Lauren glanced at the folder.

“You’ve seen that yourself.”

Clara touched the colored-pencil drawing tucked inside the front cover.

She had drawn Scout’s head from a photograph Ben had shown her, including the pale mark above his ear.

“I have.”