The corridor did not welcome the morning with innocence, for though light spilled across polished floors and brushed softly against passing faces, the air carried a quiet tension that clung to Ella the moment she stepped within it, her posture straight, her gaze lowered just enough to appear detached, though her shoulders held a faint stiffness that betrayed the awareness she could never quite silence.
Students moved around her in scattered clusters, laughter rising and fading in uneven waves, yet the rhythm shifted subtly as she passed, conversations faltering for a fraction of a second, eyes lifting, lingering, then pretending not to, and she felt every single glance like a weight she had long ago learned not to acknowledge.
