Just as Michaella Louise and Hannahrey were about to enter the classroom, Ms. Smith called out to them.
"Michaella Louise and Hannahrey, I’m sorry, but you won’t be attending my class today," she announced, her tone calm yet firm.
The entire class fell silent, murmurs of curiosity rippling through the students.
"Mr. Bajwa wants to speak with you and your parents in his office," she added.
One of the girls raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "Is this happening now?"
"Yes," Ms. Smith replied. "So that you’ll have time to catch up on your next subject afterward."
Without argument, the two girls stepped out of the room and immediately called their parents. The minutes that followed were filled with anxious anticipation as they waited outside the office. It wasn’t long before their guardians arrived, concern evident on their faces. Together, they made their way to Mr. Bajwa’s office.
Standing before the door, Michaella Louise’s older brother, Louie, hesitated for a moment before knocking softly. A few seconds passed before the door swung open.
Inside, a man stood with his back to them, carefully arranging books on a shelf behind his desk. There was an air of meticulousness in his actions, each movement deliberate.
"It’s good to see you, Mr. Davidson," the man finally said, turning to face them.
Louie’s breath caught in his throat.
His expression stiffened.
He knew this man.
This was the same person who had been their fellow passenger on the plane.
Although taken aback, Louie quickly schooled his features, unwilling to reveal any emotion. He had no idea why Kent Louie Bajwa was now in front of him, let alone as his sister’s teacher. But now wasn’t the time for personal reflections—he had to focus on his sister and what this meeting was about.
"Please, have a seat," Kent said, gesturing toward the chairs arranged before his desk.
The adults sat down first, followed by the two girls. Louie remained standing for a moment before finally settling into the chair beside his sister.
Breaking the silence, Hannahrey’s mother cleared her throat. "Mr. Bajwa, what exactly did the girls do?" she asked, her tone polite yet tinged with impatience.
Kent leaned back slightly, folding his hands together on his desk. "Mr. Bajwa. Kent Louie Bajwa," he introduced himself formally before continuing.
Louie found himself studying the man’s expression. It was unreadable—his face held no warmth, no irritation, just an unsettling neutrality. There was something unnerving about the way Kent carried himself, as if he was always one step ahead, always in control of the situation.
Meanwhile, Michaella Louise discreetly slipped her phone out of her pocket, intending to check her messages.
Before she could unlock it, Kent’s voice cut through the room like a blade.
"Did your parents never teach you proper manners, Ms. Davidson?"
The air grew tense.
Michaella froze, caught off guard. She glanced at her brother for support, but Louie, still deep in thought, didn’t react immediately. Frustrated, she nudged him with her elbow, finally snapping him out of his daze.
Kent cleared his throat, effortlessly regaining control of the room. This time, his attention shifted to Hannahrey’s mother.
"The girls were thirty minutes late to my class," he stated.
"Yes, Michaella mentioned that when I spoke to her on the phone," Louie interjected.
"Surely, you’ve already disciplined them for being late," he added, his voice calm but firm.
Kent’s expression remained unchanged as he turned his gaze to Louie.
"Was it really necessary to call us in for something so trivial?" Hannahrey’s mother spoke up, clearly irritated. "Do you have any idea how much of our valuable time was wasted over such a minor issue?"
Kent exhaled slowly, his gaze unwavering.
"It’s becoming clear to me where your children’s behavior comes from," he remarked.
Hannahrey’s mother stiffened. "What exactly are you trying to say?"
"You just spoke about how important time is," Kent replied smoothly, "yet did you ever take the time to teach your child to value it? Or is it that the ‘precious time’ you claim to have is something you never bothered to spend on them—to teach them discipline?"
The woman scoffed, crossing her arms.
Louie, however, wasn’t about to let this slide. "This is your first day here, isn’t it?" he asked, his gaze sharp.
"Yes," Kent responded without hesitation.
"Before sending my sister and her friend out of class, did you even bother to ask why they were late?" Louie’s voice was calm but laced with an underlying challenge.
"Of course," Kent answered. "That’s precisely why I made them leave."
"So, just because they took longer in the restroom, you decided to punish them this severely?" Hannahrey’s mother asked, disbelief evident in her voice.
Kent remained unfazed. "Do you know how long they were late?" he countered, his eyes shifting to the girls.
"Half an hour," Hannahrey admitted quietly.
"And what possible reason could justify being that late?" he pressed further.
"Sir Kent, we’re women. There are certain things—"
"And how long do you intend to use that excuse, Michaella Louise?" Kent interrupted sharply.
Louie’s patience wore thin. "At least let my sister finish explaining before making assumptions," he snapped.
"There’s no need," Kent replied, his voice disturbingly steady. "Even if they don’t speak, I already have proof they’re lying."
Louie’s expression darkened. "Don’t you dare accuse my sister of being a liar." Though his voice remained controlled, his eyes burned with warning.
Kent met his gaze head-on, unbothered. "I’m not accusing them. I’m stating a fact."
"Your sister has been with you all this time, yet you haven’t noticed anything unusual about her?"
Louie frowned, glancing at Michaella. At first, nothing seemed amiss. Confused, he looked back at Kent—just as the teacher stood up and walked around the desk.
Without warning, Kent grabbed Michaella’s left arm.
She flinched.
Kent pulled her forward, presenting her to her brother, before doing the same with Hannahrey, directing her toward her mother.
Then, he retrieved a pen from his pocket and pointed to Michaella’s blouse.
The ribbon securing it was tied tightly—too tightly. Some of the buttons were missing.
Then, without a word, he rolled up Michaella’s sleeve.
A large bruise covered her arm.
Silence fell over the room like a thick fog.
Louie’s stomach twisted.
Kent stepped back, allowing them to process what they were seeing. Then, he calmly returned to his seat, his expression unreadable.
A slow, heavy realization dawned upon them.
This wasn’t just about being late.
Something else had happened.
And Kent Louie Bajwa had known it all along.