After years of learning at home, my 10-year-old son, who has Down syndrome, was finally given the chance to go to a regular school. He was happier than I’d seen him in years. But just five days after he started, I got a phone call from the principal that left me shaken.

“Sweetheart, are you okay? What happened?”

He shook his head. Then he whispered into my coat, so quietly only I could hear.

“Please don’t make me leave school.”

Behind him stood two uniformed police officers. On Principal Whitfield’s desk, inside clear plastic evidence bags, sat two smartphones, a gray sock, and a fat white envelope with FIELD TRIP — MS. TRAN — $640 written on it in marker.

CHAPTER 2: THE SECRET CLUB
“Please, sit down,” Principal Whitfield said.

Jonah and I sat. Milo climbed into my lap, even though he’s ten and too big for it. Nobody told him not to.

One of the officers, a woman in her thirties with kind eyes and a tight bun, introduced herself as Officer Grace Lim, the school’s resource officer. The other, an older man, was Officer Dunn.

“Mr. and Mrs. Carver,” Officer Lim said gently, “nobody is arresting anyone today. Milo is ten. I want you to hear that first.”