ARIA The sound of the bell echoed through the classroom, sharp and final, but Professor Thorne was not finished. He turned from the board, marker still in hand, and spoke in his clipped, precise tone. “And just like that, the mixture produces water. Any questions?” Silence followed. No one dared raise a hand. Even the students who loved the spotlight kept their eyes down, unwilling to test his patience. “Good,” he said with a single nod. He capped the marker, straightened his notes, and dismissed us. Chairs scraped against the floor. Backpacks zipped. Voices rose into a wave of chatter as everyone rushed to the door, complaining about formulas and laughing about weekend plans. I stayed in my seat, waiting until the room was nearly empty. After two years at Night vale Academy, my routine was the same: leave last, walk quietly, avoid attention. Break meant the library. After school meant tutoring. No surprises. No drama. Just safety. When the crowd thinned, I slipped my no
Last Updated : 2025-10-07 Read more