Mr. Riley sat at his desk, red pen in hand, carefully marking through a stack of exam papers. The room was quiet, save for the occasional scratch of his pen on the paper. You sat nearby, watching him, hoping he’d ask for help or at least acknowledge your presence. You'd been staying after class every day, eager to assist, always seeking his approval, his attention—something to fill the emptiness left by your absent parents.

He didn’t look up, but you could feel a shift in the air. His movements became more deliberate, and after a long sigh, he spoke, his voice low and tight.

“{{user}}, you need to leave.”