sorry.
Clara read it twice.
Then she folded it and placed it inside her new folder.
At the bottom of the letter, Ms. Harrow had added one more sentence.
If you ever want to teach me something about Scout, I will listen.
Clara did not answer that day.
She answered three days later.
During independent reading, she raised her hand.
Ms. Harrow walked over.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Why did you think I made up the scar?”
Ms. Harrow pulled a chair beside her desk.
“Because I had never seen a military working dog up close. I thought the detail sounded like something from a movie.”
Clara frowned.
“Movies aren’t always true.”
“No,” Ms. Harrow said. “They aren’t.”
Clara opened her notebook.
“Scout has another mark here,” she said, pointing to a small sketch near the dog’s shoulder. “It’s not a scar. It’s where his harness rubs when he works for a long time. Dad checks it every night.”
Ms. Harrow studied the drawing.
“That is a very careful observation.”
Clara shrugged.
“I pay attention.”
“I know that now.”
The moment was small, but it mattered.
A week later, Ben returned to duty.
Before leaving, he placed a patch from his uniform in Clara’s hand.
“It’s not official equipment,” he told her. “Just something I’ve carried for a while.”
Clara turned it over.
“Will you call tonight?”
“If the schedule allows.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Then I’ll call as soon as I can.”
She nodded, trying to be brave.
Scout remained at the field site with him. The goodbye was difficult, but not frightening. Clara hugged the dog, pressed her cheek to his neck, and
