Marked By Mr Adam
"Come in."
Mr. Gabriel's voice drifted through the door, muffled but even.
William swallowed, turned the doorknob, and stepped inside. The office smelled faintly of old paper and coffee gone cold. Mr. Gabriel sat behind his desk, textbooks stacked in neat towers, spines aligned like he had measured them. Along the wall, framed photographs of graduating students and long-retired professors caught the afternoon light, decades of faces watching in silence.
Mr. Gabriel looked up from the book he had been reading, one finger still marking his place. His hair was tied back loosely, a few strands escaping near his temple, his reading glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose. He studied William o
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