ion slowly curdled into impatience. Director Miller had gone back to his emails, casting an occasional, disinterested gl

after she had begun, A

, pushing them to the center of the table. "I'

ll, incredulous laugh. "Finished? Are you giving

Miss Green, this is a serious matter. If you're

Mr. Foster. "Mr. Foster, would you mind

sponsibility. He nodded, stepping forward and picking up the first exam-Calculus-along with the official

urprised. As he turned to the second page, his eyebrows shot up. By the third, hi

g grew shallow and rapid as he flew through the pages. The red pen in his han

d become unne

up at Alethea, his face pale with shock, as if

ler asked impatient

's... it's perfect." He looked from Miller to Dawson, his eyes wide with

ty. Dawson's smile froze on her face, a grotesque mask. The pen in

re not just correct; they were elegant, concise, demonstrating a level of understanding

attention back to the stunned Mr. Foster. "Mr. Foster, I heard yo

bfounded. "Of course!

n your class?" she a

s," Foster

on crossed Alethea's fa

at Alethea had transformed entirely, from condescension to a primal,

"We have a situation... A student named Alethea Green... Yes, that Green... She j

other end of the line. Then, a c

ce. Immediately. And treat h