John shot her a glare as he maneuvered them out of the parking lot. “Well, according to your principal, shoving is just as bad.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Becca said. “I only pushed her to shut her up. And then her girls stepped to me and then my girls stepped to them.”

Victoria hid her grin behind her hand as she looked out the passenger’s window.

“Jesus Christ, I don’t send you to school so you can have standoffs with the Sharks,” he muttered.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“I’m going to take Dr. Reese back to the university and when we get home, you’re going to Skype your mother and tell her what happened.”

From Victoria’s perspective, John’s approach to children waffled between tender to quick-tempered impatience. She got the feeling that Becca wasn’t used to seeing her uncle act as a hard-edged disciplinarian. Victoria sat in the truck as an interloper on a very awkward family scene, unable to say anything helpful.

Unfortunately, Becca picked up on that and sprang. “Who are you?” she asked, staring at Victoria.

She did the only thing she knew how to do and held out her hand to shake. “I’m Victoria Reese, I work with your uncle John.”

Becca cautiously took her hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m sorry you had a bad day at school,” Victoria said.

“Yeah, well, they’re happening more and more,” the girl muttered. “Thanks for saying what you did back there. I don’t think the principal likes me.”

“The principal is trying to do her job,” John said. “When a fight breaks out, she has to call everyone’s parents.”

“Yeah, but she made it sound like I did everything.”

“Honestly, John,” Victoria said. “Her tone did suggest that Becca was solely responsible. Some of her language was coded in an offensive way.”

John sighed when he stopped at a traffic light. “Yeah, I heard it,” he said.

Moved by the girl’s gratitude, Victoria patted the girl’s leg. “Becca, honey? What did this girl say that made you so angry?”

Becca dipped her head and sniffed. “The same thing she always says. She called me a frizzy haired giraffe.”

Without thinking, Victoria wrapped her free arm around a girl she barely knew and squeezed her tight. Becca didn’t resist the hug, but leaned into it. She looked over her head and exchanged a glance with John, who watched them with curiosity. “Jenny sounds like a real...you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I had a bully like her when I was a kid,” Victoria said, rubbing Becca’s arm.

She sniffed. “What did you do?”

Hesitating, Victoria cast another glance at the other adult in the truck.

John kept his eyes on traffic and smirked. “Yes, Dr. Reese, what did you do?”