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

Then stared at it without understanding the numbers.

She kept thinking about the wastebasket.

The bent metal fastener.

The pages that might be damaged.

The drawing of Scout.

At lunchtime, she considered asking for the folder.

Then remembered how Ms.

Harrow had moved it away when she reached for it.