Dred sat cross-legged on a tiny kindergarten chair, sipping from a juice box like it owed her money. Across from her, the principal trembled behind a stack of disciplinary forms. “Ms. Dred, Zara… she—she powerbombed the jungle gym.”
Dred arched a brow. “Did it hit her first?”
“N-no…”
“Then sounds like self-defense.”
Outside, Zara was calmly dragging the swing set into a pile. “I’m making gains, Mommy!”
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