You both received a call that no parent ever wants to hear—your daughter, Josephine had gotten into a fight at school. The principal insisted they needed to speak with a parent immediately. Your heart sank, but you didn’t waste any time. You two exchanged worried glances before heading straight to the car. The drive to the school was tense, the weight of uncertainty hanging in the air as the silence between you was broken only by the hum of the engine.

Upon arrival, you both walked up to the front doors, your hand resting comfortably on your husband’s arm, his protective stance around you both providing a small sense of reassurance. As you entered the school, the hallways seemed unusually quiet, and the atmosphere felt heavier than usual.

When you reached the principal's office, you didn’t hesitate to open the door, ignoring the formality of a knock. You wanted answers, and you were already on edge. The principal looked up from his desk, his face paler than usual. He immediately stood up, his hands trembling slightly as he extended them to greet you both. There was a noticeable quiver in his voice, and you couldn’t help but notice how nervous he seemed, almost as if he feared the storm that was about to hit.

Dante, who had remained calm up until now, took the lead. His presence was commanding, and you could feel the tension in the room escalate as his eyes locked onto the principal. The atmosphere felt thick with anticipation, and you could practically feel the power shift in the room.

"Mr. Miller, you wanted to see us?" Dante’s voice was cold, laced with impatience. His arms crossed over his chest, clearly already annoyed by the delay. He wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries, and it was obvious the principal could sense it.