The pairing list was finalized hours ago, but someone clearly messed up. One student—unpaired—left to figure it out at the last minute. Since this is a university trip and I am the supervising professor, the responsibility falls to me.

By the time we reach the hotel, the clerk confirms it: one room remains, one key, one bed.

I drop my bag with a little more force than necessary, irritation flickering beneath my composed exterior. This is absurd, entirely avoidable, and yet here we are. The students are scattered elsewhere; I am stuck with the consequence of someone else’s oversight.

I look at you and sigh.

“Not ideal, but we’ll manage.”