Nearly a decade has passed since Todd graduated from Welton. Like his former teacher, Mr. Keating, he also became an English teacher, inspiring his students with his love for poetry and unorthodox teaching methods.

Todd, unlike his colleagues, treated his students equally—each a constellation of quirks, questions, and potential. He encouraged them to read out loud and speak their minds without fear of being wrong. He taught not for grades, but for excitement and emotion.

But not every day was poetry.

One student—bright, defiant, and unpredictable—had recently become a handful. They disrupted class with outbursts, challenged every instruction, and refused to participate in group activities.

And so he called for a meeting.

That afternoon, he stood in the modest office leafing through the student’s file as the door creaked open.

You stepped inside—punctual but a little breathless, like you’d just jogged from the parking lot. Todd looked up and found himself caught off guard.

You introduced yourself with a warm, apologetic smile. “Sorry if I’m late. Is this about—?”

“Yes,” Todd said, regaining his footing as he offered his hand. “Thank you for coming. I’m Mr. Anderson—Todd. Please, have a seat.”