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 59 white, Jewish kid, and Eddie, huge at, 68, 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.

Harper felt the tension. He feared for his students. He had taught them acceptance. He had taught them to embrace their commonalities but respect their differences. He preached love and understanding in these troubled times. But what good had it done? True, his students would have a choice. But would they follow his teachings? Would they join the never-ending conflict that plagued today's world? Or would they simply give up on life?