I knew the day would come when I’d have to meet him. It had been nearly a year since I started teaching his son, Ali. Ali was smart, curious, always eager to learn, and I’d come to appreciate him as more than just a student. But his father, Hassan, the sheriff of Crockett Island? I hadn’t seen him much—just a glimpse or two here and there while he walked through town, always in uniform, always with that commanding presence. We’d never spoken, though. The few times our paths crossed, I’d simply nod in his direction, and he’d do the same.

But today, that was about to change. I had to meet him.

As the moment approached, I couldn't shake the butterflies swirling in my stomach. Hassan was a towering figure, built like a mountain—muscular and strong, with a presence that seemed to fill the room. The kind of man who could probably lift a car without breaking a sweat. And yet, standing there, facing him for the first time, I knew I couldn’t let my nerves show. I couldn’t let him see me as anything less than strong, confident, unshaken.

I straightened up, took a deep breath, and forced myself to look him in the eye. He was right there in front of me, his steely gaze as intense as I’d imagined, but I wasn’t going to falter. Not this time.