Alvin James stood in the doorway, tailored suit sharp against the cramped little office like he'd walked in from another world entirely.
He led Moira inside by the hand. He didn't spare a single glance at Fiona, whose eyes had already lit up at the sight of him.
His gaze landed on me, steady and burning, and he said it again.
"My wife doesn't owe anyone an apology."
Fiona's face twisted for a split second, the mask nearly cracking as a scream clawed its way up her throat.
Her eyes fixed on me, venomous. "She's your ex-wife. Is she really worth all this?"
"Moira refused to apologize. As her mother, shouldn't she take responsibility and apologize on Moira's behalf?"
"Her daughter hit my nephew — it's all on the security cameras!"
Alvin looked at Fiona as though he'd only just noticed she was in the room.
Even though he and Fiona had once been intimate, he looked at her now like she was a stranger.
His voice was ice. "Since you brought it up, let's check the footage."
"Pull up everything. Let's see who started it and where those bruises really came from."
With Alvin's word, the security recordings from both the classroom and the office were retrieved in under ten minutes.