"Isabella?" Sofia was soft, almost pleading. "It's okay... I know how you're feeling. You're such a brightest, most disciplined student, never one to get into trouble or cause anyone harm. It happens...please, talk to me."

  Slowly, Isabella lifted her head, her sad eyes meeting Sofia's. The weight of the morning still lingered on her expression, her heart heavy with the thought of having broken image of the obedient, disciplined student she had always been.

  "Thank you... for looking after me," Isabella whispered, her voice trembling but sincere. "I think... I'm okay now."

  Sofia searched her friend's face for a moment, still uncertain. "Are you sure?"

  Isabella managed a small, fragile nod, her answer carrying a quite firmness. "Yes...I'm sure."

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  Steve Thompson, the next teacher, walked in with his usual easy smile. Unlike the stern Miss Lila, he carried a warmth that made the class sit straighter, but not in fear - rather in curiosity. He was known for slipping jokes into his lectures, for making students laugh, for being more of a friend than distant figure of authority.

  He began writing a few points on the whiteboard, marker tapping steadily, and a ripple of confusion spread across the class. The words weren't formulas, nor medical terms, nor anything close to the subject he was supposed to teach.

  One of the students raised a hand. "Excuse me, sir? Why are you writing this? This doesn't look like our subject."

  Steve glanced back, half-smiling. "You'll know soon enough. Sit tight."

  The curiosity in the room grew. Even Isabella, who still had her head lowered in shame from the previous incident, lifted her eyes to see what was happening.

  After filling the whiteboard with five numbered points, Steve turned to his students.

  TO BE CONTINUED...