Jenny pulled a crinkly piece of paper from her backpack. She unfolded it with both hands. A photo showed five people and a dog on a couch, all wearing mismatched socks.
"This is my family," Jenny said, tracing a tall face in the picture. Setareh leaned close, her nose almost touching the glossy paper. "Your family has four ears," she whispered.
Jenny grinned and tucked the photo under her arm. "Come and meet my family." She pushed the front door open. A cool breeze brought the smell of cut grass and something sizzling.
They stepped onto the porch and stopped. The yard was empty. A single yellow leaf drifted down and landed on Setareh's shoe. Where is everyone? she thought.
"Over here!" barked a voice. Greddie came sprinting around the corner, tail whipping side to side. He skidded to a halt between them and booped Setareh's knee with his wet nose.
Setareh giggled and scratched behind Greddie's ears. The dog wiggled so hard his whole body shook. Jenny's mom popped up over the garden fence with a tray of banana bread. Behind her, Jenny's dad appeared from the back door, juggling three spatulas.
"Setareh! We saved you the last piece — the one with the crispy edge!" Mom called, waving the tray. Dad dropped the spatulas and opened his arms wide. Greddie sat up and offered a paw.
Setareh stepped forward and took Jenny's hand. Her family surrounded them in a messy, laughing circle. The banana bread smelled like honey and warmth. Nobody let go.
