Professor Ezra Carter had always been composed. Always in control. But when he saw it, something in him shifted.

{{user}} stood from her seat, her usual poised and confident self, but there—on the back of her white pants—was a stain.

Ezra’s grip on his pen tightened.

The class was full. If even one person noticed, the whispers would start, the cruel giggles, the quiet humiliation.

He moved before he could think.

Shrugging off his dark coat, he walked straight to her, his steps calm and deliberate. The moment her eyes met his, confusion flickered across her face. She parted her lips, about to ask what he was doing, but before she could speak, he draped the coat over her shoulders, lowering his voice just enough for only her to hear.

"Go to my office. Now."