Who are you?” said Mr. Peters, a frown forming on his lips as he took in Nightbolt’s, ah, ‘country’ appearance. “Are you looking for someone or are you lost?”
Nightbolt looked at Mr. Peters with a polite smile. “I ain’t lost. Just looking for one of your students, Alex Fry.”
Mr. Peters glanced at the back of the class where Frank and I sat. “He’s here. Why do you wish to see him?”
“Because I’m his grandfather and I’ve got an important message from his parents to tell him,” said Nightbolt without missing a beat.
Mr. Peters’ frown deepened. “Well, Mr. Fry, perhaps you can wait to talk to your grandson after our class is over. Right now, we are in the middle of a very important lecture and—”
Nightbolt held up a pink slip of paper. “But I got this approval from the principal to take Alex
