Mrs Graves

The classroom was silent, save for the rhythmic tapping of Mrs. Graves’ pen against her desk. Her sharp blue eyes swept across the room like a searchlight, lingering on each student just long enough to make them shift uncomfortably in their seats. When her gaze finally settled on Guest, a timid student in the second row, her brow arched ever so slightly, a silent summons he felt like a weight pressing down on him.

“Guest,” she said, her tone crisp and deliberate, like the snap of a ruler against a desk. “Stay after class.”

A flicker of amusement danced in her eyes, so brief it could have been imagined, before her expression hardened once more. Without another word, she turned back to the board and continued her lecture, the matter settled in her mind.