Violet spent the entire day with Noah, even while he worked his part-time job at a karate dojo. His parents discouraged it, but he was determined to immerse himself in the karate world, believing it was his true calling. He assisted in teaching younger children's classes, while simultaneously pursuing his own training to achieve a higher rank and eventually open his own dojo—foregoing college in the process.

Noah reasoned that he'd always struggled academically, and several years of teaching experience during high school would better position him for his goals. Many criticized his lack of ambition, but Violet found his plan sound. She knew her intelligent friend understood his capabilities. Why force himself into something he hated?

His sensei's style didn't allow minors to achieve second-degree black belts; otherwise, Noah would have already attained it. He was incredibly talented, boasting numerous karate competition trophies. Violet, having witnessed his skill firsthand at several competitions, was immensely proud of him. Karate was his true focus.

She watched him seriously instruct a class of six-year-olds in a new kata. They attempted to mimic his smooth, precise movements, though with limited success. Violet struggled to suppress her laughter.

This was exactly what she needed—a reminder that life continued even after loss, and that reliable people still existed.

When the third of four classes ended, Noah approached her. "You doing alright, Vi? No need to stay all day if you're bored."

Violet shook her head. "No, this has been a surprisingly good distraction. You're a good teacher."

He ran a hand through his hair sheepishly. "Really? Thanks. That means a lot."

Noah sat beside her, leaning against the wall. "Saturdays are brutal. Weekday afternoons are manageable—I help with the little kids before my own class—but four classes in a row is exhausting. Guess it's good preparation for the future."

His conscientiousness about the future was unusual for a freshman. Most students his age hadn't considered post-graduation plans, often delaying such thoughts until it was almost too late.

Despite his focus challenges, Noah was a meticulous planner, perhaps compensating for his learning differences. He managed remarkably well, all things considered.

People underestimated him, much to Violet's frustration. He was thoughtful and intelligent, simply struggling with conventional learning. That didn't equate to stupidity.

"I'll probably face that someday too," she sighed. "But I doubt I'm as good a teacher as you. I come across too harsh. Some younger girls in my studio have said so."

Noah frowned. "That was rude of them."

"No, they were right. I'm too much of a perfectionist."

"But only with yourself. You've always been a kind, patient tutor with me. They don't know what they're talking about," he insisted.

Violet conceded his point. She was harder on herself than others. Her monotone voice and lack of facial expression likely contributed to misinterpretations.

She'd previously complained to her mother, Keeley, who simply smiled and said, "You get that from your father."

Initially, Violet found it hard to believe, given her father's affectionate demeanor with family. But after her mother's observation, she noticed his behavior around others.

Aaron was far less warm and expressive without his wife present. One day, delivering brownies to his office, Violet observed his frigid interaction with his secretary. Her mother was right; he mirrored Violet's reserved nature.

This discovery was bittersweet. Violet discussed it with her father, who attributed his demeanor to his upbringing.

Violet knew little about her deceased paternal grandparents, but understood her father despised them—describing them as cold and controlling, wanting him to marry for wealth. Aaron confided that Robert Hall had been a more significant father figure. If his reserved nature stemmed from his childhood, what did that mean for Violet?

Despite their loving upbringing, Violet remained reserved. Talking to her father offered no solace.

Noah sighed heavily, jolting Violet from her thoughts. "Great, my last class is here. Hang tight; we can do something fun afterward."

Violet nodded as he greeted his students and their parents. Another thirty minutes of karate wouldn't be so bad. It possessed a unique beauty, much like dance; martial arts could be an art form.

She didn't mind accompanying Noah; her primary concern lay at home. Violet had always disliked being affected by others' tears.

She only needed to survive until after the funeral, hoping the intense grieving would subside.