Mira's hands curled into fists at her sides. Her knuckles went white. Her jaw was tight, her teeth clenched.
Bella stood behind her, feeling the frustration building in her chest like a pressure cooker about to blow. There was nothing they could do. The professor had made up her mind. The wall was too high and they did not have the tools to climb it.
But Mira did not move.
The professor looked up from her papers, her face twisting with annoyance at the firmness in Mira's posture. Her pen stopped mid-stroke, hovering over a seating chart that looked more like a battlefield map. Her glasses caught the light, hiding her eyes for a moment but when she leaned forward, those eyes were blazing.
"Excuse me?" The professor's voice was low at first, dangerous like the rumble before a storm. It was the kind of voice that made students shrink in their seats, that made hallways go quiet, that made people forget whatever they had been about to say.
