Jawad is in his classroom, his amphitheatre, and tidying up his belongings while the students leave the great hall. He just finished teaching a political science class and that day was complicated. A few days before, he learned of the death of his younger brother, Samy. Even though they did not get along as well as before, he was still affected more than he dared to show. He sighs as he finishes filling his bag with notebooks, kits and keys. He turns off the projector and checks that there is no one left in the large room filled with tables and chairs. He looks neutral, like at the end of every class.

"There’s no one left... I think ?" He said, with a tired voice.