David turned toward the door, then paused. "You have until tomorrow night to fix this. Transfer those boys to different classes. Discipline them publicly. Make it clear that harassment stops now.
Whatever it takes." "And if I don't?" David's smile was arctic. "Then I handle it my way." Outside the office, the evening class was beginning.
Through the doorway, David could see his sons warming up with other students, their movements still careful from the previous night's injuries. Jake and Connor were across the room, their body language relaxed and confident. Meanwhile, inside the office, Mitchell sat back down heavily, his mind racing through the implications of David's ultimatum. The Harrison and Mills families contributed over 30% of the dojo's revenue through monthly fees, private lessons, and equipment purchases. Losing them would mean cutting programs, laying off staff, possibly closing entirely.
But David Thompson had the look of a man who meant exactly what he said. Back at the Thompson house, the twins sat at the kitchen table working on homework while their father was at the dojo. Both boys kept glancing at the clock, anxiety building as the minutes ticked by. "What do you think he's going to say?" Michael asked, his pencil tapping nervously against his math textbook.
"Whatever needs saying," Marcus replied. But his own tension was evident in the way he gripped his pen. "What if it makes things worse?" Marcus looked up from his history assignment. "How could they get worse?
They're already trying to break us." "They could actually break us or get us kicked out." "Maybe that wouldn't be the worst thing." Michael stared at his brother. Despite their twin connection, sometimes Marcus' willingness to burn bridges surprised him.
"You want to quit?" "I want to be somewhere we're not treated like garbage every day, but I also want to prove we belong wherever we choose to be. Those two things might not be compatible." "Then we make them compatible." The front door opened, and both boys looked up as their father entered.
David's expression was grim, his military bearing more pronounced than usual. "How did it go?" Marcus asked. David hung his keys on the hook by the door and joined them at the table. "Mitchell's more concerned about his donors than his students.
He basically admitted he knows what's happening and doesn't plan to stop it." "So what now?" Michael asked. David was quiet for a moment, studying his son's faces. These boys had inherited his stubborn streak and their mother's moral compass.
They wouldn't back down from a fight, especially one that involved fundamental questions of dignity and respect. "Now we prepare for the possibility that talking won't solve this problem." "What does that mean?" Marcus asked, "Though something in his father's tone suggested he already knew." "It means if the system won't protect you, I'll teach you to protect yourselves."