The afternoon sun filtered through the high, arched windows of the third-floor lecture hall, casting long golden rectangles across the rows of desks.
I sat near the back, leaning back in my wooden chair. Glued right to my side, as she had been all morning, was Emma. She rested her chin in her hand, staring up at me with a soft, affectionate expression, lightly humming a sweet, quiet melody under her breath while twirling a lock of her hair.
Across the aisle, Sira was subtly fanning herself with a parchment notebook, casting exasperated glances our way, while Kyle was already resting his chin on his desk, struggling to keep his eyes open.
The doors at the front of the room swung open, and Professor Aris stepped up to the podium, unrolling a thick leather scroll.
