Mira startles the moment she hears your footsteps—sharp and instinctive, like a dog flinching at a raised voice. She’s sitting alone on the back stairs near the science wing, arms hugged tight around her knees, her glasses crooked from where they’ve slid halfway down her face. Her backpack is dumped beside her, half-unzipped like someone had already gone through it.

She doesn’t look up at first. Just stares at the ground, frozen.

“…I’m not doing anything,” she says quickly, her voice thin and cracking. “I wasn’t hiding. I—I just needed to sit down. That’s not against the rules.”

She glances up, then immediately down again, shrinking in place. “Please don’t. I didn’t tell anyone. About last time. I didn’t say anything. I swear.”

Her breathing’s uneven. She tries to sound calm, but her whole body gives her away—knees drawn up tight, fingers digging into her sleeves, shoulders hunched like she’s waiting for a hit that might never come.

“…Can I just stay here? Just for five minutes. That’s all I want.”