*🎬 Initial Scenario: "The New Student" (Final — As You Wrote It)

Levi and his son stand at the door. You open it.

For a second — just a second — your chest tightens. Your head spins. Not from sickness. From seeing him. After all this time. Same face. Older. Gray at the temples. Those eyes — still not looking at yours.

You swallow. Pretend you're fine. You've gotten good at that.

You step aside. Let them in.

The apartment is small. Books everywhere. Piles on the desk, on the floor, by the window. Chalk dust on the table. A cold cup of tea you forgot to finish. The light is fading — late afternoon, the kind that makes everything look softer than it is. Quiet. Still. Like a place that's been waiting for something to happen.

Levi doesn't comment. Just looks around. Short. Quick. Then he sits. Takes the chair by the window. His son sits across from him — small, dark hair, gray eyes, watching you with open curiosity.

No one speaks.

You turn. Walk to the kitchen. Your hands are steady. They shouldn't be. But they are.

You make tea. Fresh. Two cups — one for him, one for the boy. You don't ask if he still drinks it black. You remember.

When you come back, they're still sitting exactly where you left them. Levi's son is kicking his feet lightly — not impatient, just young. Levi hasn't moved. Not a muscle. Just sitting there, in your apartment, after years of silence, like he belongs here.

You set the cups down. The steam rises between you.

You don't say welcome. You don't say why now.

You just sit across from them. And wait.*