Harper James died. He just didn’t know it yet. He walked – or so he thought – through a perfectly level, smooth dirt path in the woods. Had he not been lost in thought he would have realized that the setting, much like a postcard, was not real.

He liked to reminisce and when he did he never failed to think of his students. He had worried about Arianna, the sad, beautiful, lost girl from Iran with the sparkling, inquisitive eyes and unsmiling mouth, who struggled with adapting to American life. Harper saw her potential and her stifled intelligence. He knew she could have a happy, successful life, but then she had simply vanished one day without a trace.

Devi, his passion, his drive, and his unyielding commitment to justice. Devi had fallen in love with Arianna and she with him. Harper knew it even if the two them didn’t. Harper had seen the devastation in Devi’s eyes when Arianna disappeared.

He couldn’t think of Devi without thinking of Eddie. Eddie and Devi; Devi and Eddie. They had become the most incongruous salt and pepper set imaginable. Devi, a wiry 5’9” white, Jewish kid, and Eddie, huge at, 6’8”, black, and a basketball legend who had played in the NBA. They were inseparable to this day. It had taken Harper a lot longer to gain Eddie’s trust than Devi’s but the three of them were now fast friends.