It was the first Monday of the semester. Room 106, wide and glass-walled, was already filled with occupied chairs, open notebooks, and attentive eyes when the doorknob turned late. A quick, uneasy silence spread, as if time itself had held its breath for an instant.

She entered with determined but unhurried steps, as if being late were part of a ritual. The black skirt clung to her thighs with every movement, and the white blouse was slightly open at the chest—not by accident, but by choice. Her eyes didn’t seek excuses, only met the professor’s gaze, standing at the front of the room, with the confidence of someone who expected something.