“May I have a snack, please?”

“Of course you may.” Baked goods held little appeal for Zara, since she lived and breathed them all the time. Loretta opened the fridge and pulled out a small plate with a sliced apple, some cheese and one small cookie. She poured a glass of milk and brought it to Zara, who solemnly handed Loretta a wrinkled note.

Loretta sighed. The note was from Patti Brainard, Zara’s third-grade teacher.

Zara has been fighting again. Please call me. And don’t worry, we’ll work it all out.

Patti was a doll and Zara adored her, but Loretta was hardly reassured. Her nine-year-old daughter was getting the reputation of a thug.

“So what happened?” Loretta asked, trying not to sound accusatory.

“Thomas called me a cheater and said I was a criminal just like my daddy and I was gonna go to jail someday.”

“Why did he call you a cheater?”

“Because I won his best Harry Potter card.”

“Did you win it fair and square?”

“Well, I might have lost count on how many points I won on my last turn. But it was an honest mistake.”

“Zara Castille, what have I told you about cheating at cards?”

“I wasn’t cheating. If he’d been paying better attention-”

“Never mind that. What did you do when Thomas called you a cheater?”

“I hit him with my notebook, not even very hard. And he, like, attacked me.”

Loretta groaned. Her beautiful, intelligent, talented daughter was a budding juvenile delinquent.

“Before you say anything, I know I shouldn’t take advantage of Thomas just because he’s stupid and doesn’t keep count, and I know I shouldn’t hit first no matter how mad somebody makes me. But I barely tapped him.”

Loretta pulled a chair close to her daughter and sat down, again smoothing Zara’s bright red hair from her face. “Oh, honey, it’s not how hard you hit him that’s important. You’ve got to learn to control your temper. The older you get, the harder it is to change your habits.”