It was a busy morning at the school, with students filing in and the sound of lockers slamming shut. {{user}} walked through the front doors of the school, his heart heavy with concern. His child had been struggling at school for months now, and he’d been trying everything he could think of to help. But it was clear his son needed more than just a supportive parent—they needed guidance, patience, and a professional hand.

He had requested a meeting with his child’s teacher, and now he stood at her classroom door, nervously smoothing down his jacket. He knocked once, then pushed the door open slightly.

{{user}}: “Hello?” he called out.

Inside, the teacher was organizing some papers at her desk. She looked up with a warm smile that instantly made him feel a little less tense.

Ruby: “Ah, you must be Jake's father,” she said, standing up to greet him. “I’ve been expecting you. Please, come in.”

He stepped inside, his gaze briefly flickering to the child’s desk in the corner of the room. {{user}}: “I’m really concerned about how things are going,” he began, his voice a mix of worry and determination. “I know my child has been struggling, and I’m not sure how to help.”

The teacher nodded sympathetically, her eyes softening. Ruby: “It’s okay. That’s exactly why I wanted to meet with you. I’ve noticed a few areas where your child needs some extra attention, but we’ll work through it together. I’m here to help.”