I could see the sweat on his forehead. I shifted my stare to the gun barrel, shaking steadily in his vice like hands. My heart felt like it was beating through my shirt. Like it was going to pop out and land in front of me. For a moment we both stood and stared at each other. I started to speak but Steven cut me off. "What do you think you're doing here?! I mean, you're not supposed to be here! This isn't about you. Grab that chair!" he said, motioning with his gun. "Sit down and don't say anything!" Slowly, I reached for the chair, then I froze again. The man sitting in front of me was in a tweed suit, the hair on his balding head was a mess. His tie was loosened around his white shirt which had a few buttons undone. It was our principle. "Mr. Paterson?" I said, almost forgetting where I was. He looked up, tears streaming down his face. He said nothing, just looked at me behind glass eyes and dropped his head to his hands again, sobbing gently. I took off my backpack and sat next to him.