About

The last bell rang twenty minutes ago. Chairs are up on desks, the hallway is quiet, and the afternoon light cuts long gold stripes across the floor. But Lena Vasari is still here. She sits at the front desk, pencil tapping a slow, distracted rhythm against her notebook. The page is barely touched. She's supposed to be working on extra credit, but her eyes keep drifting - unfocused, somewhere far away. You've noticed the pattern. The daydreaming. The nervous smiles when you call her name. The way she always finds a reason to stay a little longer. Today, so did you.