the desk, looking as if she were ready to get down to business. She began shuffling papers, scanning through the piles, searching for what she needed. Outside, the sun peeked out from behind a cloud and began slanting through the windows, zeroing in on them. The temperature instantly seemed to rise, and Miles tugged on his shirt again. Sarah glanced up at him.
“I know it’s hot... I’ve been meaning to bring a fan in, but I haven’t had the chance to pick one up yet.”
“I’ll be fine.” Even as he said it, he could feel the sweat beginning to trickle down his chest and back.
“Well, I’ll give you a couple of options. You can pull up a chair and we can talk here and maybe we both pass out, or we can do this outside where it’s a little cooler. There are picnic tables in the shade.”
“Would that be okay?”
“If you don’t mind.”
“No, I don’t mind at all. Besides, Jonah’s out on the playground, and that way I can keep an eye on him.”
She nodded. “Good. Just let me make sure I have everything....”
A minute later they left the classroom, headed down the hall, and pushed open the door.
“So how long have you been in town?” Miles finally asked.
“Since June.”
“How do you like it?”
She looked over at him. “It’s kind of quiet, but it’s nice.”
“Where’d you move from?”
“Baltimore. I grew up there, but.. .” She paused. “I needed a change.”
Miles nodded. “I can understand that. Sometimes I feel like getting away, too.”
Her face registered a kind of recognition as soon as he said it, and Miles knew immediately that she’d heard about Missy. She didn’t say anything, however.
As they seated themselves at the picnic table, Miles stole a good look at her. Up close, with the sun slanting through the shade trees, her skin looked smooth, almost luminescent. Sarah Andrews, he decided on the spot, never had pimples as a teenager.
“So...,” he said, “should I call you Miss Andrews?”
“No, Sarah’s fine.”
“Okay, Sarah.. .” He stopped, and after a moment Sarah finished for him.
“You’re wondering why I needed to talk to you?”
“It had crossed my mind.”
Sarah glanced toward the folder in front of her, then up again. “Well, let me start by telling you how much I enjoy having Jonah in class. He’s a wonderful boy—he’s always the first to volunteer if I ever need anything, and he’s really good to the other students as well. He’s also polite and extremely well spoken for his age.”
Miles looked her over carefully. “Why do I get the impression that you’re leading up to some bad news?”
“Am I that obvious?”
“Well...sort of,” Miles admitted, and Sarah gave a sheepish laugh.
“I’m sorry, but I did want you to know that it’s not all bad. Tell me—has Jonah mentioned anything to you about what’s going on?”
“Not until breakfast this morning. When I asked him why you wanted to meet with me, he just said that he’s having trouble with some of the work.”
“I see.” She paused for a moment, as if trying to collect her thoughts.
“You’re making me a little nervous here,” Miles finally said. “You don’t think there’s a serious problem, do you?”
“Well . . .” She hesitated. “I hate to have to tell you this, but I think there is. Jonah isn’t having trouble with some of the work. Jonah’s having trouble with all of the work.”
Miles frowned. “All of it?”
“Jonah,” she said evenly, “is behind in reading, writing, spelling, and math—just about everything. To be honest, I don’t think he was ready for the second grade.”
Miles simply stared at her, not knowing what to say. Sarah went on. “I know this is hard for you to hear. Believe me, I wouldn’t want to hear it, either, if it was my son. That’s why I wanted to make sure before I talked to you about it. Here . . .”
Sarah opened the folder and handed Miles a stack of papers. Jonah’s work. Miles glanced through the pages—two math tests without a single correct answer, a couple of pages where the assignment had been to write a paragraph (Jonah had managed a few, illegibly scrawled words), and three short reading tests that Jonah had failed as well. After a long moment, she slid the folder to Miles.
“You can keep all that. I’m finished with it.”
“I’m not sure I want it,” he said, still in shock.
Sarah leaned forward slightly. “Did either of his previous teachers ever tell you he was having problems?”