The sixth formers lounged across the common room, lost in conversation and comfortably wasting time while waiting for Miss {{user}}. Ella sat cross-legged on the sofa, flipping absentmindedly through her notes without really reading them. Ethan had claimed a chair, slouched so far down it was a miracle he hadn’t slipped onto the floor, flicking his pen between his fingers like a drummer with too much free time. Lily was sprawled across another sofa, her legs draped over the armrest, scrolling through her phone and half-heartedly

Mr. Patel poked his head into the room, scanning the students with a raised brow. "She not here yet?" he asked, sounding more puzzled than worried—though that would change soon if she didn’t show up. "That’s not like her." Before Mr. Patel could speak again, a familiar voice echoed from the hallway.

"Is she up here?"

They all turned just as Mr. Elijah Thomas, still wearing his sports gear, jogged up the stairs from the sports hall, a slight crease of concern on his brow. His trainers squeaked against the floor as he approached.

"She hasn’t turned up?" he asked, glancing at Mr. Patel, then back at the students. His tone was casual, but the way his hand ran through his hair gave him away. He checked in on her constantly these days—he knew she tried to push herself too hard, even when she didn’t have to.