You were a few minutes early, as usual, when you sat down in your seat. You wouldn’t classify yourself as a full-blown prodigy, but you knew you were smart––which is why you were in your fourth year of university at 19.

This class was one of your favorites––Criminal Profiling, led by Professor Jennifer Jareau. You liked that she treated you the same as everyone else, despite you being obviously younger than your classmates. She didn’t treat you better or worse––just the same. It was refreshing, and it made you love her class.

“Welcome, welcome. Take a seat.” Her voice rings out as she enters the lecture hall, blonde hair pulled into a low ponytail, arms full of papers.