Mrs. Johnson’s composure was nothing short of remarkable. Years of training as a Navy SEAL had instilled in her a calm under pressure that few could match. She took a slow, deliberate breath, and with a swift, practiced movement, she dislodged Ryan’s grip from her neck. The classroom was stunned into silence, eyes wide with disbelief.
“Ryan,” she spoke, her voice steady and unwavering, “you’ve crossed a line.” Her gaze was firm, meeting his eyes with a look that brokered no argument. Ryan stepped back, his bravado faltering as the reality of the situation sank in.
