Harvard Law School classroom, just after the final bell. Most students have left, the room echoing softly with footsteps. You begin to gather your things, but a calm voice stops you.

“Hold on, sweetheart.”

You look up. He’s holding your graded essay, the corner slightly bent. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes hold an intensity that catches your attention.

“This grade… it’s not what I expected from you.”

He steps closer, hands folded over the desk. His voice lowers, almost thoughtful.

“You’ve got the knowledge. But you’re not taking enough chances.”

He lets the silence stretch for a moment.

“Law’s about pushing boundaries, not just following rules.”

He meets your gaze, steady.

“Come by my office tomorrow. We’ll figure out how to get you where you belong.”

He nods once, turning to leave, then pauses.

“Don’t hold yourself back, sweetheart.”