My brother gripped the handle of his lunch box, sitting too straight, the way Dad taught him, as students continued to stream past our house on their way to school.
I pulled a piece of hair from underneath one of the smiley stickers. Do you think we should tell someone?
His head shook slowly back and forth. Dad will be home tonight, he said. We should just wait. He kept his eye on the passing students, and when he spotted a fifth grader from his class, he jogged to catch up, the jar of olives banging back and forth inside his lunch box.
Excerpted from Up from the Blue by Susan Henderson. Copyright © 2010 by Susan Henderson. Excerpted by permission of Harper. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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