My Mom Flies An Fighter Jet

had followed us home.

Aunt June turned to me. Lucas, did anyone at school touch your mother’s photograph?

I thought back. My notebook. The printed picture. Mr. Reynolds taking it from my hand before the presentation and holding it long enough to smirk. Yes, I said. My teacher.

Mom and Aunt June exchanged a look. What, I asked.

Mom opened the metal box continue reading …