But Ethan didn’t falter. He didn’t look at the floor. He didn’t quicken his pace to escape the ridicule.
He walked with a steady, rhythmic, dignified grace. He held his infant daughter up high, close to his heart, as if she were the most precious, hard-won diploma he would ever receive in this lifetime.
He reached the base of the stage stairs. Just as he lifted his heavy work boot to put his foot on the first wooden step, a figure darted out from the side and blocked his path.
It was Principal Vance, a rigid, sweating, old-school administrator who cowtowed heavily to the school board—and specifically, to Richard Harrington’s checkbook.
“Mr. Miller,” Vance said, his voice low, frantic, but dripping with forced authority. He held up a hand, physically pressing it against Ethan’s chest to stop him. “You cannot bring that… that distraction onto this stage. It violates all protocol and decorum.”
