The half-smile from Giselle likely passed for the same level of gratitude her father displayed but without the overly enthusiastic charade. "Thank you, Mr. Miller, we'll be brief." She took the lead and walked past his band of agents, noticing one that wasn't dressed up in a suit like the rest of them. It was slightly amusing thinking about the man getting written up for failing to get to the dry cleaners on time, an exaggerated scenario playing in her head like a movie. 

Giselle stood by the door and waited for her father to walk inside the office. She met the eyes of one of the agents for a second; his face expressionless and robotic, and then she closed the door. 

As soon as you walked inside the principal's office, you would notice a rather typical set-up. Mr. Miller's desk was off to the right, his swivel chair practically backed up against the wall. The black cushion would at least make the long days somewhat comfortable. There were two chairs on the opposite side of the desk for visitors, placed at a slight angle and matching the same dark wood tone of the furniture. On the opposite wall, a bookshelf stood tall filled with books and various other miscellaneous items, similar material as his desk and chairs. Next to it was a large, light gray file cabinet, likely filled with students' information, amongst other things. And in the middle and directly across from them was a window with the blinds partly drawn, the view outside being of the street in front of the school.

"So, what's the matter?" Giselle finally asked, curious as to what her father needed to tell her so badly that they were both now standing in her principal's office. A sudden, dark thought crossed her mind. "Is grandma okay?" 

This time around, her concern was as real as she was letting on.