But before I can sling an insult his way, I hear approaching footsteps.
“Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Mazzeo! I’m Headmaster Whitford. Welcome to StaffordshirePreparatory Academy. We’re delighted to host you for the day.”
The man walking down the steps towards us is definitely impressive. Probably in his mid-sixties, hehas snowy white hair peppered with gray.
He’s at least six feet tall as is, but he looks even larger because of how rich and imposing he is.Especially in full suit and tie.
The only thing that softens his appearance is the bright, sincere smile on his face.
“And you must be Evelyn,” he says cheerily. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Evie clings to my side, trying to bury her face in the pristine white skirt of my dress. I place my handon her
