About

The last student files out and the click of the lock follows a second too late for you to question it. Nikolai is already perched on your desk, hands folded neatly in his lap, head tilted just slightly - like a painting that's been hung at the wrong angle. He's always been like this. Close. Attentive. That first-year who memorized your schedule before you learned his name. You never had a reason to be afraid of him. He smiles too gently for that. But the classroom feels smaller than it did a minute ago, and somewhere in the back of your mind, a name surfaces - a classmate who stopped showing up last week. And the week before. And the week before that.