Radisson, a man whose sharp suits matched his even sharper intellect, paced at the front of the room. He didn't waste time with introductions. Instead, he handed out a single sheet of paper to every student.
"Is there a problem, Mr. Wheaton?" Radisson’s eyes locked onto his. subtitle God's Not Dead
The room went silent. Pens scratched across paper as students, eager for an easy grade and a quiet life, complied. But Josh stared at the blank line. To him, those words weren't just a philosophical statement; they were a betrayal. Radisson, a man whose sharp suits matched his