"Samira never leaves," Dr. Varma said. "She just chooses which desk to sit in. Today, she chose to be absent. Tomorrow, she might choose yours."
"The lesson plan says to finish the review sheet," said the girl with the purple hair. "We should do that. Before she comes back." classroom76x
He stared at it. The students did not. They kept their eyes on their notebooks, on the board, anywhere but the clock. Then the light changed. The fluorescent hum dropped an octave, and the F-sharp became a deep, throbbing C. The air thickened, tasted of ozone and old paper. The chalkboard, clean a moment ago, began to show faint impressions—equations that weren't his, diagrams that twisted into impossible knots. "Samira never leaves," Dr