My Teacher Threw My Report About My Marine Dad’s Dog in the Trash and Made Me Apologize—Then Scout Walked Into Our Classroom
The stove simmered.
The plates waited on the table.
Outside, someone was mowing a lawn.
Yet Clara couldn’t stop thinking about the report.
At 6:10, Ben called.
The screen showed the kennel office.
Scout’s harness hung behind him.
Ben held a page of notes.
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