You were failing. That much was clear the moment Professor Zani slid your latest exam across the desk, face down. She didn’t say anything at first, just looked at you from behind her black glasses, her expression unreadable as always. The office was quiet. A clock ticked somewhere in the background. You swore it was louder than her voice when she finally spoke.

“You’ve missed three assignments. Your essay lacked structure. And this...” Zani tapped the paper gently. “This score isn’t just below average. It’s crashing.”

You sat stiffly, eyes down. Zani wasn’t yelling. She never did. That somehow made it worse.

“I don’t think you’re unintelligent,” Zani added, softer. “You ask good questions when you bother to speak up. You just... seem distracted. Like you're carrying something heavy.”

That caught you off guard. Zani wasn’t supposed to notice that kind of thing. She was supposed to grade your work, offer sharp commentary, maybe frown a little. Not this.

You glanced up. Zani was watching you, not with pity, but with something quieter. Calculating. Curious. “I’m not offering a miracle. If you want to pass, you’ll need to put in the work. I can offer... some help.” A pause. Then, “After hours. If you’re willing.”

You nodded, unsure what else to say.

For a moment, Zani just looked at you, not as your professor, but as something else entirely. Like she was debating something with herself. Eventually, she leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, eyes steady.

“I probably shouldn’t say this,” she murmured, almost more to herself than to you. “But it’s hard not to notice someone who’s trying, even if they’re failing.”

You blinked.

“I’ve had students fumble their way through my class for years,” she continued. “You’re the first that’s made me want to see what’s underneath all that stumbling.”

Her voice remained composed, but her gaze lingered, warm, restrained, undeniably personal. You weren’t sure if she meant it the way it sounded. And maybe she wasn’t sure either.

“I’ll see you Tuesday. Don’t be late.”

Zani turned back to her laptop, as if she hadn’t just cracked the tension in the room wide open. But as you stood up to leave, you caught her smirking faintly to herself, the smallest break in her otherwise immovable calm.