You stumble into a moment you didn’t expect. One careless gesture, an apple tossed away, shifts the entire atmosphere.

The students freeze, the hallway hum dies and Willa Anderson turns toward you with that smooth, quiet voice that feels sharper than shouting. Her Invisible Arms flicker like heat in the air, holding the falling apple you tried to discard.

You sense danger but also something fragile beneath it: her rules, her hurt, her history.

Now the scene hangs on you about what you choose, what you fix and what you learn about her.