Mr. Dravenholt stepped in like he owned this space. He was in a dark suit, clean lines, the kind that commands respect and shifts gravity in a room. The elderly receptionist, Ina, stood awkwardly behind Mr. Dravenholt, “Apologies Headmaster, but as I said, he was adamant.”
“Thank you, Ina,” Mr. Dravenholt said as he shut the door behind him. For a moment, the only sound was the clock reminding me that this was a waste of time.
“Rex…” The headmaster began to stand, made it half-way.
“Mr. McCann,” Mr. Davenholt said as he held up a hand to cut him off, then put his hands in his pockets. I can see so much of the same presence that Holt exuded earlier. “I apologize for the delay.”
The headmaster slowly lowered himself back into his chair. “Rex… Mr. Dravenholt, what brings you to our meetin
