Dyanne
Alexander took two steps into the classroom, not diverting his eyes from Harper for a single instant. The assessment in the mobster's gaze was cold, calculating, but beneath that layer of ice, Harper could detect a glimmer of astonishment and a deep need for answers. "Good afternoon," said Alexander, in a deep voice that resonated against the classroom walls. "I'm Ethan's father." Harper stood up elegantly, wiping her hands on her skirt and maintaining her composure despite the icy air that seemed to accompany the man. "Mr. Cole," Harper responded with serenity and a kind smile. "I'm Harper Grace, Ethan's teacher. We were expecting you." Alexander looked at his son, who remained sitting on the floor holding the drawing they had made together. Then he looked back at the teacher. The silence between them grew dense, marking the beginning of an irrevocable change in the lives of all three.
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