I knew that voice. It was deep and familiar. It was a voice that commanded our attention in World History class every other day, one that had cheered our team on from the sidelines at every football game: the voice of my best friend’s father. Mr. Nash. My mind went cold, unable to process what was happening. It was impossible. I must have been so high on adrenaline that I was hallucinating. With trembling fingers, I reach...